


i'm going to make this place your home

by amaranthskies



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, F/F, Road Trips, blatant use of every regional gothic i could find, geography doesn't exist, magic may or may not be involved in the happenings of this story, side bumbleby but team rwby centric, team rwby adopts each other after careening through the wilderness in yang's pickup truck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-09-13 07:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthskies/pseuds/amaranthskies
Summary: They're all looking for something, and that's what draws them together.Ruby's looking for adventure, looking out the window and watching the world fly by, wild and strange and uncontrollable. Weiss wants freedom, wants to run far away from long titles and too-heavy responsibilities. Blake searches for a place to heal, and she finds it in the front seat of a battered yellow pickup truck.Yang just wants to find her family, but maybe they're already in the strangers she's found on the road.





	1. switching to a new lane

**Author's Note:**

> i'm hopping on the "team rwby road trip" au train, get ready
> 
> special thanks to [bipolaryangxiaolong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/bipolaryangxiaolong) for helping me with writing shenanigans! they're so wonderful and an awesome writer and you should definitely check out their fics!!
> 
> anyways. here we go.

 

_switching to a new lane_

right now, right now, i’m switching to a new lane

foot to the floor man, searching for the real thing

meet somebody else, sometimes ain’t no shame

head to the clouds sayin’

it’s like, can i get a connection?

_~ connection, onerepublic_

-

Yang’s looking for a home.

It’s not the “apple pie cooling on the windowsill, red-painted roof and white trim around the windows” home. God knows she hasn’t looked for any of _those_ in her life.

It’s the home in the missing father she’d never known. It’s the home in someone to fill the empty nights where her mother would disappear mysteriously for days, leaving Yang to live off heated burritos and water from the rusty faucet until Raven came home, smelling like coal and bitter sage.

When she was seven, she told her mother, “I’m going to find my dad.”

Raven hadn’t even looked up from her paper. Smoke curled from the end of her cigarette as she replied, “You’re going to have to do that on your own.”

Yang loved her mother - really, she did. Raven kept the monsters away. She gave Yang a roof and a home and a quick smile every once in a while. She taught Yang to hold her own and to fight and to never let any man control her.

_(Yang wouldn’t let any man control her in the first place, but that’s a different thing.)_

Still, the dream of finding a home was ever-present in her mind.

The day of her eighteenth birthday, she picked up the keys to her truck and stood in the doorway of her house. She can still remember the conversation, even now.

_“I’m going to find my father,” she said to Raven. She was still waiting on the threshold, waiting - whether for confirmation or not, she didn’t know._

_Raven didn’t look up, like all those years ago. “All right.”_

_Yang still hesitated, hovering on the doorstep. Finally, she asked - bluntly, Raven didn’t teach her how to be subtle - “Will you miss me?”_

_Raven didn’t answer at first, although her hands stilled. Finally, she gave a sigh - the sound rustling like feathers - and bent her head towards the ground._

_“I won’t make the mistake of pinning you to the ground,” Raven said, voice almost cold but not quite. “If answers are what you want, you are free to find them.”_

_Yang nodded faintly - she palmed her keys once, running the pad of her thumb against the jagged edge - and turned to leave._

_“Yang,” Raven called, short and piercing._

_Yang turned, barely on the threshold. Raven hadn’t moved, but her normally still hands were clenched, fisted tightly and trembling on the table._

_“If you ever find your way back,” Raven finally said, bordering on soft, “You know where to find me.”_

_Yang nodded against the sudden tightness in her throat. “I love you, mom,” she replied carefully. Gently._

_Raven nodded briefly, and she raised her eyes to lock with Yang’s just before the door slammed shut between them._

That was the last time Yang had seen her mother.

It had been a year since then, she’d reasoned. Time passed by when she was on the road - staying in run-down motels, picking up the odd knickknack on the way, scouring every city that came across her way.

The closest she’d gotten to finding her father was a half-torn picture, neatly stripped down the side. Yang had been filling up her gas tank at a run-down station when she was approached by a man - silvery hair and an ornate cane, bent glasses and a somber expression. He’d pressed the slip of paper into her hand earnestly.

_“I knew your mother,” he’d said simply. “Your eyes are startling - you have her in them.”_

_Yang blinked - her eyes were incongruous against her mother’s, lilac against copper. Taken aback, she was caught off guard and couldn’t form words. Before she’d had the chance to ask the man what he meant, he’d disappeared._

Two people were visible in the fragment of paper - a man and a woman. The woman’s face was nearly obscured by the white coat she was wearing - all that could be glimpsed of her face was a pale curve of a chin and a streak of reddish hair.

Yang wasn’t sure who the woman was - definitely not Raven. Raven had dark hair and never wore white - this woman’s features were too soft, not angular enough. But the man...

The man’s face was torn through the middle, leaving only a wisp of blond hair and a piercing blue eye.

Yang wasn’t an idiot - she’d learned basic color theory. Her gaze was fixed on the blue - blue and red…

She caught a flash of lilac in her rearview mirror and grinned, the reflection catching the barest sliver of her lip.

Yang was driving, now - she’d continued her search with a renewed vigor, taking beaten-down roads with no specific destination. She was passing through a strange field - the odd light turning her surroundings different shades of purple - dark and mysterious, a faint scent wafting through the air. The hills were also tinted the strange mauve that dyed the fields, and she felt a faint prickling at the back of her neck as she drove through the uncanny land.

She bent down and squinted at her dashboard - she was almost out of gas. “Damn it,” she swore softly, under her breath - there was no gas station for miles, and the last one she passed by was two hours’ drive away.

The hills were rising around her, growing steeper by the minute. The road curved and snaked around the hills, and Yang drove cautiously by.

She rounded a corner and suddenly caught sight of a beaten-down rest stop. It had risen out of nowhere, nestled in the corner of the mountain. A few sputtering power lines extended out of the fray, and there was a small convenience store with the lights still on - plus a patched-up gasoline pump. Yang sighed in relief.

“Might as well get some stuff while I’m at it,” she said to herself, urging her pickup truck forward. It grumbled under her touch, and she patted the dashboard. “Come on, Bumblebee. You got this.”

Bumblebee pulled next to the pump with a rattling sigh and Yang let out a whoop. “Yes!” she cheered, pumping her fist in the air. “Good job, girl!”

She pushed the nozzle into Bumblebee’s side, flipping the switches. The machine creaked and complained but slowly started working, lights flickering.

While Yang was waiting for the gas to start filling, she wandered over to the convenience store, fingering the scrap of photograph nestled securely in her pocket. Opening the creaky glass door - a bell above her head rang cheerfully, tinkling twice - she nearly tripped over an ornate cane lying by the doorstep, blinded by the sudden brightness of fluorescent lights compared to the hazy overcast outside.

 _An odd combination,_ Yang thought as she made her way through the junk food aisle to snag a bag of chips, _bright and dark._

She dumped her supplies on the counter and waited for the cashier to ring up the total. Tap-tap-tapping her foot, she noticed a small keychain in the shape of a bee hanging from a box of souvenirs, and unable to keep the smirk from sliding onto her face, added it to her stash to put up on Bumblebee.

“Your total is ten dollars and forty-two cents,” the cashier said nervously, sliding the pile of miscellaneous items towards Yang. He was barely a teenager, young and with freckles spotting his face. “Need a bag?”

“No thanks,” Yang said easily. She scooped up the medley easily, pausing to pull out the photograph. “Also - just a question - have you see any of these people before?”

The boy blinked, eyes flickering to the door briefly, the cane leaning innocently against the frame. “I - can’t say I have,” he said finally, words stumbling. “Not - not many people come by here. I, uh, definitely would have noticed him - I mean, _them_ \- before.”

“Ah, well.” Yang carefully tucked the picture into her pocket, making sure to take her time in folding the picture. “That’s a bit of a disappointment.” Still, she made sure to pin the boy with her eyes, watching him closely. “Are you sure _you_ haven’t seen any of them?”

The boy was fidgeting with his overalls. “No, I haven’t,” he said softly. He cast his eyes down. “I’m sorry I’m not able to help you.”

“That’s all right,” Yang replied lightly. “Thanks anyways.”

She was almost out the door when the boy stood up abruptly. “Wait,” he called. “Beacon. Someone I knew - know - said he had a student that looked like the woman. He taught a school in Beacon.”

“The woman…?” Yang turned just as the door swung shut, the door jingling merrily. The cane clattered to the ground loudly, banging against the floor. And behind her, through the glass, the boy at the counter was gone, the lights still on.

_Weird._

Still, there were weirder places out there. And if the boy was right…

“Beacon,” she echoed.

Inside, she was in turmoil. Beacon was a city on the country of Remnant - however, it was on the _other_ side of the country, a journey that would take her more than several days to travel. And if this story was that long ago…

A loud _crash_ came from behind Yang, followed by a curse. Yang spun around.

A girl flinched from across the lot, standing next to a broken-down car. She was wearing a white blouse and neat slacks, looking worn and tired and near breaking down as she stood next to her wreck of a vehicle.

There was something about the scene that made Yang’s heart ache - the girl looked _exhausted_ \- clothes wrinkled and dark hair disheveled, circles stamped under her half-lidded eyes, and in that moment she made a decision.

“Hey,” Yang called. “Do you need help?”

-

Blake’s looking for somewhere to heal.

Her feet ached and her hands were stiff, the low keen of fear curling in the back of her throat whenever she pressed her foot to the gas pedal.

She’d been driving for hours, since the rough beginnings of the night. Blake didn’t dare look in the back of the rearview mirror, terrified she’d see the outline of crimson hair and bruised knuckles.

It was getting dark outside, had been for the past hour. The sky was fading into a peculiar purple, nearly velvety. Blake frowned - the time display on her dashboard read only late afternoon, flickering in and out of brightness.

“Oh, god,” she mumbled aloud, slackening her grip on the wheel the tiniest bit - her joints complained and muscles screamed. “This couldn’t get any worse.”

Immediately, the engine let out a coughing stutter.

“No - _no -”_ Blake leaned over and frantically looked out the windshield. Something was rattling in the engine of the car, thunking against machinery. “Oh, _no - come on -”_

She desperately scanned her surroundings - deep purple fields, the small road winding around them - and a faintly illuminated building nestled against the foot of the hill.

Blake urged her car forward, flinching every time the engine made an especially loud rattle or noise. _That’s what you get for running out,_ she berated herself, _for taking one of the cars in the junkyard behind your apartment instead of public transportation -_

 _Adam takes the train,_ her mind reminded her, and Blake gritted her teeth.

Finally, she rolled into the lot outside the gas station and creaked to a stop. Letting out a breath of relief, Blake opened the door, getting out and closing it with a vehement slam - and the front bumper crashed to the ground, crumpling against the concrete.

Blake swore under her breath and jerked her gaze up, freezing when she noticed the young woman standing in front of the store. Her eyes were wide and mouth slightly open, carrying assorted paperphanalia in her arms.

Blake was a mess - she knew it. The exhaustion stamped under her eyes and her work clothes that were more than a day old, worn from a night ago when she first fled her apartment with nothing but all her savings stuffed in the back pocket of her slacks. She took a step back, raising her hands as to offer an explanation.

The girl stepped forward, frowning softly. She had blonde hair, almost like shavings of gold curling down her shoulders. “Hey, do you need help?”

“I’m fine,” Blake attempted to say, looking at her car. A faint wisp of smoke was rising from the hood of the engine, and the paint was scratched and dented badly. She definitely was sure she _wasn’t_ going to make it out of the parking lot, but the girl didn’t need to know. “I - technical problems, I guess.”

“Technical problems? Looks like your car was rusting for years in a junkyard,” the girl said good-naturedly, no malice behind her words. “Look, let me take a look. I got one myself -” she jerked her thumb towards another vehicle parked next to a beaten-down gas pump, a wheat-yellow pickup truck - “and I know how to fix these up.”

“Thank you,” Blake said gratefully, letting her conscience take hold. She stepped back and let the girl examine it - she was tall, taller than Blake up close.

“No problem,” the girl replied, pushing open the hood of the car. “By the way - is that your phone, in the front seat? It’s been ringing for a solid minute.”

Blake felt a sour taste rise in the back of her throat. “Yeah,” she managed, words sticking in her mouth. “It’s fine. I don’t need to answer him.”

She could see the phone flashing on the front seat, and was hit with the sudden fear that she hadn’t turned off her GPS system, that he could track her, that Adam was already on his way, eyes hard and dark and he would slam Blake to the floor like he did that night, raise a half-empty bottle clutched in his fist and swing at the ground next to her face -

“Hey,” the girl said softly, leaning next to Blake - she somehow had ended up curled on the concrete ground, fingers shaking so hard her whole arms were trembling. “Are you all right?”

Blake tried to nod yes, but ended up sharply jerking her head in an indiscernible motion.

“Deep breaths,” the girl murmured, sitting next to Blake and rubbing her back. Blake knew her skin should prickle at the touch, but all she felt was a sweeping steadiness as the girl gently comforted her. “In and out.”

Finally, Blake inhaled. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, half-laughing as she swiped at her eyes. “I’m not normally like this, I swear.”

“I get it,” the girl nodded. “Tough times. You probably have been driving for a long time - trust me, I know that feeling. Chips?”

She offered the bag of chips to Blake, which was half-open, her face open and honest and betraying the smallest glimpse of a kind smile. Blake nodded, gave one of her own, and reached into the bag.

The girl’s eyes were a startling violet, mere shades lighter than the hills surrounding them.

“So,” the girl said finally, after they had sat for a little while in the flourescent lights of the lot. “I have good news and bad news.”

“Bad news first,” Blake immediately replied. “That way I can get it over with.”

The girl quirked an eyebrow. “Your car was pretty reliable until you got it here,” she reluctantly admitted, “But it’s not going to work any more. The engine is fried, and you need to replace some _serious_ parts that even I can’t find here.”

Blake felt a sweeping wave of uneasiness. Here she was, trapped in an unknown field with a questionable, broken-down car. She’d gotten out, but she still wasn’t safe.

“The _good_ news,” the girl continued, leaning back on her hands, “is that I can give you a ride to the nearest hotel, maybe get you to the city if you want.”

Blake jerked in surprise. “Are you sure?” she asked the girl breathlessly. “I mean - why would you?”

The girl shrugged. “You look like you need help,” she said simply, and the startling kindness in the way she said it made a pang go through Blake’s chest. “And it gets lonely out here. Trust me, I know. I’ve picked up hitchhikers before.”

“How do I know you’re not a serial killer?” Blake inquired lightly.

The girl rolled her eyes, grinning brightly. “Would a serial killer have one of these?” she asked, holding up a small keychain with a bumblebee pendant dangling from it.

“They might,” Blake shot back.

The girl smiled again, sharp and striking. “Where’s your final destination?”

Blake hesitated. “Don’t really have one,” she replied finally, and it was true. A place to heal from grasping hands and cold hearts wasn’t exactly a place she could name, one she couldn’t see on the horizon, no matter how distant.

“Everyone’s looking for something,” the girl declared. She stood up, offered her hand to Blake. In the light, she looked almost unearthly for a second - streetlights edging her hair in gold and fire, eyes deep and wild as thunder - but Blake was already reaching for her hand, brushing warm skin, pulling herself up. “It all depends where you can _find_ it.”

Blake turned things over in her mind, maps and cities flashing in her eye. “Somewhere far,” she said slowly. “Anywhere you want -” _run away from Adam, from Menagerie -_ “and you can drop me off anytime, I’m just trying to get away -”

“No problem,” the girl interrupted, eyes wide and mouth tilting at the edges. “I can do that. Maybe down by the coast, what do you say?”

Blake nodded assent carefully. “What’s your name?”

“Yang Xiao Long,” the girl replied immediately, offering a crooked grin. “You?”

“Blake Belladonna,” Blake echoed.

“I guess you’re along for the ride, right?”

Blake looked at the options, stretching out through the air - she looked past the lights, at the beaten down hunk of metal that once was her car, the empty brilliance of the convenience store, the deep hills beyond, Yang’s pickup truck framed in the foreground. She looked in Yang’s eyes and saw untraveled roads and a sort of beautiful wildness, much like the moor stretching around them.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m going.”

-

They’d been on the road for a day now after spending a night in the nearest motel. It was crappy and run-down but the rooms were cheap, and Yang had made sure the stranger - Blake - was safe in her room before collapsing in her own bed.

A rest stop rose in the distance and Blake tapped her fingers against the window. She was still wearing the clothes from before, smudged and crumpled. “Can we stop here?” she asked carefully.

“Sure,” Yang replied, pulling over into the parking lot. Blake pushed open the door and headed towards the building, walking quick and light and wary, like she was waiting for someone to spring on her from behind.

Yang pulled out the bumblebee keychain and wrapped it around her fingers, watching the sunlight glint off the enamel. It flashed under her knuckles, and she reached over and hooked it over the stand of the rearview mirror, dangling next to the small rainbow flag.

A minute passed, then five, then ten. Yang drummed her fingers against the dashboard, absent-mindedly turning the radio volume up. Music drifted through, longing and old and simple, guitar strings plucked in the background.

Another five minutes passed. Yang felt a sense of trepidation - _what if Blake had left?_

 _Don’t be silly,_ she chastised herself. _You’ve only known Blake for less than 24 hours and you’re already getting attached? You won’t see her in a couple of weeks. She’s just a stranger that you wanted to help, and that’s it. It’s not like people haven’t hitchhiked with you before._

The voice in her head sounded suspiciously like Raven’s. Yang frowned and brushed it off.

 _Doesn’t mean I can’t care about her,_ she argued back.

And she did - Blake looked so _tired,_ so defeated when she first saw her, that Yang couldn’t help but want to comfort the smaller girl. She had the air of someone who was running, and maybe that’s what pulled Yang to her - they were both looking for something, and they had the same destination.

Yang thumbed at the photograph in her pocket, running the pad of her fingers against the folded edges. She was about to pull it out when she caught sight of movement outside her window, dark hair and soft eyes.

Blake pulled the truck door open and slid into the seat next to Yang. She was holding a worn pack and had changed out of her clothes, now wearing a shapeless weater and carefully stowing her bag near her feet. “All ready.”

“I thought you might’ve left,” Yang replied jokingly as she pulled out of the lot, trying to keep her voice from betraying her immense relief at Blake’s return.

Blake leaned back in her seat, rolling down the window slightly and letting the wind tangle her hair. “And lose my ride?” she replied, gold eyes smiling, “Never.”

“Yeah,” Yang snorted. “Like I’m not the only charitable driver out on the road.”

“Mm,” Blake replied, watching the scenery roll by. They’re traveling down a road stretching to the horizon, seemingly endless, although Yang knows better. Fields of golden wheat unfold around them, no house in sight. They waved softly in the breeze, rippling fields of goldenrod. “Not many people would do what you did for me,” she said softly.

“People would do anything for a pretty girl,” Yang said idly, resting one hand on the wheel and letting the other hang on the side of the window, “Including me.”

Blake didn’t reply at first, a sudden tension filling the air, and It takes a minute before Yang realized what she just said - she _flirted_ with Blake, the almost-familiar stranger in the front of her car. The words didn’t taste bitter in her mouth, however - they were too sweet, too easy, and that sent a wave of stark shock through her.

“However,” Yang said hastily, “It gets lonely out here, and I don’t mind the extra company. I usually pick up hitchhikers, so that’s not a big deal.”

Blake nodded, looking faintly relieved and the tiniest bit… disappointed? However, she watched the road go by. “I’ve never got the chance to meet new people,” she said lightly, although her voice was a little bit quiet. “It seems like… fun.”

“There’s nothing stopping us,” Yang replied, keeping her eyes on the road. “I do it sometimes because I like the company, or just want to help people out. You’d be surprised at the people you’d find out here. Wild, free-spirited, thousands of stories to tell.”

“Like you,” Blake murmured, so quiet Yang wasn’t sure it was meant for her to hear. She was starting to look melancholy, and Yang bumped her elbow into the shorter girl’s side.

“Hey,” she said softly, grinning. “What do you say? Wanna try it?”

“It’s your car,” Blake said tentatively, chewing her lip. Still, there was a faint sort of excitement - wild, unconstrained.

Yang winked. “The one thing about a road trip with strangers,” she said cheerfully, pressing on the gas, “Is the people you meet on the way.”

Blake makes a thoughtful noise, looking through the window. “I’ve never done this before,” she replied, almost a whisper.

“Well,” Yang announced, “I’m going to teach you how to _really_ live.”

Blake laughed, and it was pretty, the sound rising and falling. It filled the backseat of the car, curling in the air for a brief moment, but there was still so much empty _space._

Yang straightened and peered out the dashboard window. She saw crows wheeling overhead, disturbed by motion. As they got closer, the source of the commotion was shown - a small girl, dressed in red, waving at cars that passed by.

“She’s looking for a ride,” Yang noted.

“She looks kind of young,” Blake observed, frowning. “What’s a girl doing out here?”

“You’re right.” Yang slowed the car, squinting at the small girl. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to leave her alone for some weirdo to pick up - I think we’ve found our next passenger.”

She swerved so the truck pulled alongside the small girl, who was wearing an oversized crimson jacket that nearly swallowed her small frame. Piercing, silvery eyes, shadowed by her scarlet hood, watched the two girls.

“Hey,” the silver-eyed girl greeted, “Can I hitch a ride?”

-

Ruby’s looking for adventure.

Not many people would look at her and think she’s the type that would run away from her home at age fifteen, leave a note behind and be walking down a crumbling road armed with nothing but her school backpack and a hidden pocketknife.

But here she is, and Ruby’s feet hurt.

“Sure, Ruby,” she said aloud, frowning to herself. “You said you wanted to get to the sea at one point. But that’s super far away, so you’d better get going.”

She continued walking carefully down the white line striping the edge of the road, continuing to hum to herself. Fishing around in her pack brought a small pack of crackers and her favorite hoodie, perfectly oversized.

Carefully crunching on her food, she continued on her path. Not many cars went by this way, and she occasionally waved to the random vehicle that went by, counting the number of times they waved back.

“Wow,” she muttered after an especially grumpy man drove by. “Helpful.”

At that moment, something sharp dug into the sole of her foot. Ruby yelped and jumped, startling a flock of sparrows perched on the power lines strung up above her head.

“Aw, sugar,” she muttered as she inspected her shoes. Her soles were flapping, a piece having torn away from the rest of her shoes. Pulling out a roll of duct tape from her backpack, she tried fixing it up - it worked, but Ruby knew it was a temporary fix.

“Can’t walk,” she said glumly. “Can’t call anyone. This is _great.”_

Ruby decided she’d have to hitchhike.

Hitchhiking was something she’d done once before, and she’d been driven by some weird guy with white hair who would not shut up about his ex-wife and the strings of destiny and the gory realities of fairytales. Ruby’d only managed an hour of that before hopping off and bidding him good day.

Still, if she wanted to see the ocean…

There were some cars coming in the distance. She’d just have to flag them down.

The first two cars just drove by her without noticing. One honked his horn at Ruby, who scowled and threw a rock at his car as he went by.

The third looked promising - a bright yellow vehicle, flashy stickers popping from the sides. Ruby waved her arm at them, hoping to catch their attention.

Soon enough, they slowed to a stop and pulled over at the side of the road for Ruby. Ruby peered at them, squinting through the slightly tinted windows, a hand thumbing at the hilt of her pocketknife - she’s not an idiot, she doesn’t want to get in the car with potentially shady people.

“Hey,” Ruby called. “Can I hitch a ride?”

A young woman, maybe a few years older than Ruby herself, leaned across the passenger seat, looking carefully at Ruby. “You’re awfully young to be alone on the road,” she noted. “And what are you doing hitchhiking?”

Ruby shrugged. “I need a ride,” she replied shortly. “I won’t be any trouble, I promise.”

The girl in the passenger seat looked slightly wary, although it was hard for Ruby to notice because of the blonde driver leaning into her personal space. “What’s your name?”

“Ruby,” Ruby answered, because why not. If you were going to be riding in a car with two strangers, you might as well try to make friends with them. “Ruby Rose.”

“Yang,” the blonde said in reply. “And this is Blake.”

The other girl, Blake, looked a bit startled, but that look quickly melted into curiosity as she peered at Ruby. “How long have you been out here?”

“A few months,” Ruby replied, beaming at them. Most people looked terrified when she answered that question, or at least a little bewildered. However, these two girls simply looked awed, and that was good enough for her. They seemed trustworthy enough, to Ruby’s eyes - and they never failed her. “I’m heading towards the sea. I’ve never been.”

“Hmm,” the blonde murmured. “The sea’s awfully far away. You were planning on walking all the way?”

Ruby nodded assent, feeling a bit scrutinized under the blonde’s worried tone. It had been long since someone had sounded like that - caring, almost motherly - towards her. “I’ve done it before,” she tried.

“Well, if you’re going to ride with us - because I sure as hell am _not_ going to let you walk the whole way there - you’re going to have to tell us one thing,” the blonde replied. “What are you looking for?”

 _What, not where._ Ruby answered without hesitating, “Something exciting.”

The girls looked at each other. “You can get in the back,” the blonde finally declared, grinning brightly. “Welcome to the party, Ruby!”

Ruby climbed into the yellow pickup truck and they were off, continuing down the road. The girls are quiet in the front seat, conversing softly in calming whispers. Music, riddled with sharp bursts of static, filled the car, the occasional guitar strum and warbled word.

She stretches, reaches for her packet of faded magazines. Ruby’s feet are singing in relief as she curls on the seats, and the concrete races by outside, thousands of times faster than what she would’ve covered if she was walking. Her pack is resting by her seat, the sunlight turning the inside of the car to gold due to the paint.

Ruby took a look out the window, settled into the comfortable and worn seats, and thinks, _this isn’t so bad of an adventure._

-

“I think she’s sleeping,” Ruby heard.

It was through a muddled fogginess in her mind - she groaned and flapped her arms, waving the voice away. “No’m not,” she slurred, voice sluggish.

“You definitely were,” another voice said. It was brighter, more energetic than the other one, and Ruby pieced the words together slowly.

“Nope,” Ruby mumbled. She was dimly aware of herself leaning against the strap of her seatbelt, cheek stuck against the cool glass. Her pack had fallen over and her magazine was resting on the floor, but she still had all her possessions, and everything seemed to be all right.

She peeled her eyes open to see the two girls, gold and dark hair, watching her. The golden-haired girl raised an eyebrow when Ruby focused in on her. “We’re at a rest stop - McDonalds. You okay with getting food here?”

“Yeah,” Ruby answered, squinting at the gold-haired girl. “Where - where are we?”

“A couple hours outside of Atlas,” the other girl replied. Her voice was more careful than the one with brighter hair, like she was warier. “On the eastern part of Remnant.”

Ruby yawned and scrubbed at her eyes with the sleeves of her hoodie. “I forgot to ask,” she added, sliding out of the truck to walk alongside the two girls. The McDonalds they were headed to was relatively empty, a few people milling about inside. The moon was overhead, hanging against a curtain of stars. “What direction are _you_ guys headed?”

The two girls exchanged a look. “West coast of Remnant,” the blonde girl finally replied, casting a look at the darker-haired one. “Normally I’d say Atlas is a good place to get a ride to wherever you need to go, but, like I said before - you’re kind of young to be out here by yourself.”

“I can handle it,” Ruby said indignantly, bristling.

“I have no doubt you can,” the darker-haired girl said mildly. She was watching Ruby with an expression of curiosity - an odd mix of awe and respect. “It’s just that Yang would feel bad leaving you here alone.”

“You know me too well,” the blonde laughed teasingly, bumping the girl - Blake - again with her elbow. Blake grinned at the blonde, elbowing her back. “Where are you from?” she asked Ruby, directing her attention to the small girl as they pushed their way in.

“Patch,” Ruby replied carefully as they made their way towards a booth. “Small town, nearby Beacon. You probably wouldn’t recognize it.”

The blonde, Yang, slid into the seat across from Ruby. “Why are you out here?” she asked curiously, almost protectively. Her tone almost reminded Ruby of her father, mellow and easygoing. “Beacon’s pretty far, and I would know. I’m heading there, myself.”

“Mm,” Ruby replied absent-mindedly - she fiddles with the laminated paper of the menu, squinting at the blurred letters, probably stained from some unidentifiable drink. “I guess I can’t just stay put. I’ve lived by myself for a while - my dad teaches at a boarding school, and my mom, Summer -” the words stuck in her throat. “She died. A few years back, actually. Dad couldn’t stay in the house and soon enough, I couldn’t either.”

“I’m sorry,” Yang murmured, and Blake nodded, face somber.

“What’s done is done,” Ruby said, forcing cheer onto her face - she found out that faking enthusiasm usually got a little bit going for her, and it’s not worth dwelling on what she could’ve done differently. “I’m having the time of my life right now - which is what mom would have wanted, right? I’m off on adventures.”

“You have a good outlook on life,” Blake said, smiling faintly at Ruby.

“Thanks,” Ruby replied brightly. “I get by when I can.” She gives up on looking at the menu, focuses her attention on the other girls. “How about you guys?”

Blake looks down at the smeared table, stained oddly. “I’m not looking for anything in particular,” she replied, mouth twisting at the end. “Just… trying to get away from an ex-boyfriend.”

Yang’s face darkened incrementally at that, fingers tightening on the menu. She nudged Blake, carefully, a comforting gesture, and Blake leaned into the touch. “Yeah,” Yang replied, “Me, I’m looking for someone my mom used to know. Last I heard, they were with someone in Beacon, so…”

“Hmm,” Ruby said thoughtfully. “Beacon’s a pretty big place. Where exactly?”

“The school,” Yang replied.

“Oh!” Ruby exclaimed gleefully. “That’s the school my dad teaches at!”

“Really?” Yang leaned across the table, eyes alight. She looked eager and _hopeful,_ her face the brightest Ruby had seen it yet. “Do you know anybody there that could tell me about one of the students?”

“Professor Ozpin,” Ruby replied automatically. “He’s gone most of the time doing god knows what, but he’s been there for, like, _forever._ I’m sure he could help you out.”

“Thanks.” Yang leaned back, her eyes still beaming, a little more tense. She was fidgeting with something in her pocket, shuffling in her seat.

The fluorescent lights were starting to make Ruby’s head spin. “Anybody want anything to eat?” Ruby asked, standing up. “I can place your orders if you want.”

Yang rattled off her order, easy and comfortable, like she was used to stopping by diners and eating greasy junk food. “Thanks, Rubes,” she grinned, and Ruby stuck her tongue out at the older girl, pretending to feign disapproval of the nearly familial nickname.

“Whatever’s cheapest,” Blake said idly, thanking Ruby softly.

Ruby collected both of their menus and headed towards the counter, humming tunelessly as she did so. Placing their order, she thought idly about how they could cover the bill - Ruby had usually worked off her meals and a place to sleep by doing small favors for the communities and people she’d stayed with. She had a good sense when it came to trusting others, and that hadn’t failed her since.

_“My silver-eyed warrior,” her mother laughed, watching Ruby fondly as she stumbled across the living room on unsteady, young legs, wearing her oversized jacket._

Her mother was a faint picture in that memory, a blurred face streaked with red, like Ruby’s own locks. Unconsciously, her hand rose to tug at them, dark streaks in her peripheral vision. The red was darkening, growing out at the tips, almost unnoticeable.

Ruby cheerfully rattled off the orders to the waitress, a bubbly girl with copper-orange curls and wide green eyes. She was energetic and beamed at Ruby the entire time through; a little strange for someone to have this much energy at 2 AM. Still, Ruby fished for a few coins in the pocket of her hoodie and dropped them into the tip jar.

Orders placed, the girl disappeared to the back of the restaurant. Ruby idled in front of the pickup counter, peering at the two girls in the booth. Yang was talking to Blake - the taller girl laughing brightly, the shorter smiling faintly. It was obvious they were close - still, judging by the way Blake’s eyes flicked around the restaurant every now and then, and the contained brightness of Yang’s smile, that they hadn’t known each other for too long.

Suddenly, the doors slammed open. Loud voices came from the entryway, and Ruby jerked around in surprise as two people came inside.

A young woman, hair in a long, pale rope down her back, came through, scowling with an intense ferocity that Ruby instinctively took a step back. She was dragging a duffel bag behind her, slung over her shoulder. There was something about her - delicate, cold, put-together - that reminded Ruby of a snowfall she saw once, many years ago; however, that mirror was marred by the burning intensity and disgust in her eyes.

However, it was clear that the look wasn’t aimed for Ruby, as the young woman swung around to face the man stumbling in behind her.

“I would like to be dropped off _here_ ,” the girl said, coolly, “So would you stop following me?”

-

Weiss is searching for freedom.

It wasn’t as if she was chained and locked away, padlocked behind iron bars and a gate - _although I might have been,_ she thought bitterly. A princess being groomed for a future she didn’t want, the crown a heavy weight about to snap her neck.

Conformity was as valued as obedience in her family, miles above self-expression and - _god forbid,_ Weiss thought sarcastically - _happiness_. Everything was cold and enforced with the sharp bite of a word or the sting of a slap, and Weiss ached every day to be free from that place.

She had stood on the edge of the crossroads, her pack a heavy weight behind her. She’d packed as much as she could, extracting all her money from her card and grimly snapping the thing in half - and if she liked the sound and crushed the plastic in her hand, nobody would know.

Debating furiously on what to do, Weiss had finally plotted her escape - months and months of slowly gaining her father’s trust, eating smaller amounts to save freeze-dried packages of food, slowly stashing clothes away. Everything was done with a calculated precision - working out the kinks. She had only one chance to escape, and if she failed, she was _done._

And even then, she’d managed to do it.

The cold bite of air nipped at Weiss’s cheeks as the land raced by - she’d accepted the first ride from a beaten-down car that had pulled over, and rolled down the window amongst the static of the radio. It was just after midnight and nobody would have noticed her absence - her phone was heavy and silent in her pocket.

After a moment, she noted the way the man who was driving her - how he was looking sideways at her - she was still wearing the formal clothes from the dinner before, not having bothered to change - and how incongruous she must’ve looked.

 _Like I was worth a lot of money,_ she thought bitterly, and then the first onset of panic bit at her throat. The car was slowing - the man was thumbing at his phone, still glancing at Weiss every few seconds.

Everybody knew the Schnee Manufacturing company; that name was big, stamped onto phones and clothes and Weiss’s heart, and she’d scraped the labels off her possessions but not the one on her being, her body.

_ Mine,  _ her father’s voice snarled in her mind, and she clenched her teeth and buried his voice somewhere in a locked vault.

The glow of a rest stop rose in the distance after an eternity - Weiss _knew_ it had been two hours, but her mind was starting to take control - adrenaline was starting to set in; she needed to _get out._ The man’s hand had dropped from the wheel and was a few inches from her thigh, twitching closer and closer, and -

“Stop here,” Weiss demanded, gratified to hear that her voice was still steady - the man chanced a glance at her and growled under his breath, but still pulled into the parking lot. Weiss was out of the car before it had fully stopped moving, swinging her pack onto her shoulder and pushing through the doors of the building - a McDonalds, she noted faintly. Footsteps crunched behind her.

The doors swung open behind her and she spun on her heel, irritation and the tiniest bit of panic making her voice sharp. “I would like to be dropped off _here_ ,” Weiss snapped, “So would you stop following me?”

“You didn’t even say thanks,” the man sneered, shoving his hands in his pockets. It was the first thing he’d said to her the whole time, and the predatory look in his eye made Weiss’s blood turn to ice.

“I don’t need to _thank_ you _,_ ” she bit out - she shoved her bag behind her, dropped it on the ground. “You’ve been acting like a creep ever since I got into your car, so, if I may have the honor - thanks for _getting away from me._ ”

“I wouldn’t talk that way if I were you, princess,” the man said languidly. “You don’t have a ride to the glittering castle you want to reach, and I’m your only option.”

Weiss’s hair was raising at the tone the man was using - cold and cruel. Glancing over, she saw that there were a few people inside - two young women in a booth, a small, dark-haired girl idling by the counter, bright eyes narrowing as she glanced towards Weiss and the man.

“I don’t need your _charity,_ ” Weiss said icily. “Have a good night.”

The man’s face twisted and he suddenly reached out - hand nearly brushing Weiss’s shoulder - Weiss flinched but the touch never came, and she saw the girl from before standing in front of her, holding the man’s wrist, effectively keeping it away from Weiss.

“She doesn’t want you to stay,” the dark-haired girl said, her voice young but firm, eyes hard and silver. “So go.”

The man’s eyes narrowed and the young girl held eye contact, glaring at him as if she could melt the creep down to his bones with the force of her glare.

“How about you -” the man began, when a hand gently pulled the dark-haired girl’s shoulder away, making her grip on the man’s wrist loosen and drop. One of the young women in the booth was standing next to her, watching the man with her eyes sparking.

“How about _you_ learn some manners,” the blonde young woman said lowly - she was smiling, but it was dangerous and predatory and burning, no pretense of friendliness.

“Leave,” the other girl snapped, moving to stand next to Weiss - she was also glaring at the man, eyes like chips of amber. If the blonde’s look could’ve burned the man to the ground, the look on _her_ face would have made him wither into dust on the spot. “She’s with us.”

The man took a look at their faces, malice smeared across his face, but he turned around and loped out of the McDonalds, hands shoved in his pockets. Once the doors swung shut behind him, the dark-haired girl let out a breath of relief and turned to face Weiss.

“Nice to meet you,” she said cheerfully, sticking out her hand. “My name’s Ruby.”

“I could’ve handled him,” Weiss huffed, her voice laced with faint annoyance. Immediately, she regretted it - feeling a wave of guilt as the girl - Ruby’s - face melted into a slightly crestfallen look. Weiss made sure to soften her voice as she reached out and shook Ruby’s hand, movements precise. “Weiss.”

“Well,” the blonde girl said breezily, patting Ruby on the shoulder, “All’s done is done. Glad we got the chance to shut down a pervert - love doing that. Sorry you had to run into one,” she added, peering at Weiss. “They really do suck.”

“That’s quite all right,” Weiss replied. “He was the first person who had offered to pick me up - I’m very inexperienced at this,” she continued, face twisting in frustration, “And he really was my only option at the moment.”

“Well, you’re safe now,” the amber-eyed girl said softly, handing Weiss her bag from where it had fallen on the floor. “Where were you heading?”

“Away from Atlas,” Weiss replied shortly, cutting off her words. “I didn’t get far,” she murmured, posture slumping. In that brief moment, she felt stripped of her haughty righteousness - just a girl, away from home, stranded in a world she was new to - and let her shoulders curve, betraying her vulnerability. “I don’t know where to go.”

The girl with amber eyes and the blonde chanced a glance at each other - it was short, passing through them, but a brief, shared memory seemed to flash in both their minds’ eye. “Hey,” the blonde said gently, lips tugging in a warm smile. “I got room in my truck for one more; do you want to join us?”

Weiss watched the three - the earnest expression mirrored on all three girls’ faces, no hints of malice, easy and kind and warm. Their looks were so _different_ than what she was used to - cold marble and delicate lace - but they were strong, and Weiss felt a surge of _trust._

“Yes,” she replied, face cracking in a smile. It felt foreign; however, it was easy, and _good,_ slivers of sunshine winking from the top of a glacier. “Yes, please.”

The amber-eyed girl laughed, warm and low. “I’m Blake. Nice to meet you.”

“Yang,” the blonde interjected brightly. “You’ve met Ruby - do you want to sit and eat with us before we get going?”

“Well,” Ruby cheered, having picked up their food from a girl with bright hair and eager eyes, carrying a tray of fries and assorted junk food, “Welcome to the team, Weiss!”

Weiss felt another smile break across her face - it was warm, like how she felt, sitting in the diner with her new traveling partners.

Maybe she was on her way to freedom after all.

-

The diner was a smudged light in the distance, shrouded in the dark. Everything had that muted quality that existed only in the dead of night, but there was still something to be found.

Four girls, sitting in a diner, leaving in a bright pickup truck.

 _This is going to work,_ Yang thinks, and the photograph isn’t as heavy a weight in her pocket with Ruby’s laughter, Weiss’s words, Blake’s smile.

_We’re on our way._


	2. just take my hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the wait for this chapter; i wrote it while listening to 1 hour compilations of indie/folk music on youtube. hope this 13k word monster makes up for it. enjoy and have a happy new year!

 

_just take my hand_

drive down to the coast, jump in the seat

just take my hand and come with me, yeah

we can do anything if we put our minds to it

take your whole life then you put a line through it

my love is yours if you're willing to take it

give me your heart 'cause i ain't gonna break it

_~ eastside, benny blanco/khalid/halsey_

 

Ruby wakes up feeling warm and safe, and she feels a faint sort of confusion at the sensation. Reaching behind her for her pack - unconsciously - her hand hit soft cushioning instead of the roughness of her bag.

 _Oh, right._ She peeled her eyes open to see a stretch of blue sky, puffy clouds lazily rolling across azure. Her pack was a heavy weight across her feet, and she frowned and kicked it off.

The resulting _thump_ startled Blake from the front seat, who turned to peer closely at Ruby. She was smiling faintly, eyes soft and relaxed. “You nap a lot,” she noted, and it wasn’t accusatory or disdainful, just a small, offhand comment.

“Naps are important,” Ruby replied, reaching up to rub the sleep from her eyes. “They make me feel…” she searched for the right word. “Refreshed,” she announced triumphantly.

“I thought water did that,” Yang laughed from the front seat. She was relaxing in the front seat, chair pushed back just enough so that it didn’t brush Ruby’s knees. Yang twisted in her seat to grin at Ruby, easy and mischievous, and Ruby stuck her tongue out at the older girl, feeling a welcome sense of familiarity.

“You know what also is refreshing?” Weiss said coolly from the backseat, reclining next to Ruby. She turned the page of her book without skipping a beat or looking up to acknowledge the others. “Peace and quiet.”

A startled stillness came over the car - a brief, fractured moment - before Weiss lifted her eyes, the coldness in them slipping away, lips quirking before she added, “Kidding.”

“Did you just make a joke?” Blake asked, sounding amused. “I think you just made a joke.”

Yang snickered. “Damn, Weiss. You got me there. I almost was going to throw you out.”

“Nice Weiss strikes again!” Ruby cheered, pumping her fist in the air, nearly upsetting Weiss’s book.

“I retract my previous statement,” Weiss said flatly, although a smile was still tugging at her mouth.

“Aw, c’mon,” Ruby pleaded, widening her eyes as she stared at the older girl. “I _know_ you have a soft side, we just have to let it out.”

Weiss looked taken aback for a few seconds - it smoothed away and she turned the page of her book again, looking unusually somber. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I’m not used to…” she moved her hand slightly, the movement managing to encompass the truck and the four people within. “This.”

“I know it’s hard,” Blake said softly, eyes understanding. “But you have time.”

“We got your back,” Yang added, warm and comforting. She laughed again, this time softer. “Besides, you’re not doing too bad.”

“We’ll form the Weiss Protection Squad,” Ruby said firmly, grinning. Weiss looked a little bit affronted and almost on the verge of laughter, fighting down a smile. “Yang and I will punch people for your honor -”

“Except Blake,” Yang interjected, grinning, “Because she’s civilized.”

Blake snorted. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t fought anyone in a bar before,” she said, voice suddenly low and rough and sweet, and Yang swung around in the seat to stare at her, eyes wide and mouth parting slightly.

“- and you can embark on a quest to fulfil your true destiny and find your meaning in the world,” Ruby finished gleefully, oblivious to Yang’s sudden speechlessness. “It’ll be great!”

“Sounds awfully like a fairytale,” Weiss replied offhandedly, lips curling upwards at the ends as she glanced towards the front seat. “Yang, you might want to keep your eyes on the _road._ ”

Yang tore her gaze away and faced the windshield, knuckles clenching with a renewed vigor on the wheel. “Sorry,” she said guiltily, laughing a little. Blake didn’t say anything, quiet and still in the front seat. “All we need to do is to find a dragon for Weiss to fight, and then you’ll be able to live in a fantasy novel.”

“I’d like that,” Ruby said thoughtfully - she was tapping her feet against the worn carpet, soles flapping against the floor of the car. “Heroes get to do dangerous things for a good cause.”

“Yeah, and there’s a high chance of death,” Blake pointed out dryly.

“Bring it on!”

“How about we leave _dying_ out of the equation,” Weiss said, matter-of-fact. “I’d much prefer if we didn’t die in order for Ruby to go on her quest.”

“Can’t promise death,” Yang called from the front seat, her voice taking on that dangerous, burning quality that managed to carry through the small space. “But you’ll get your adventure.”

-

They’d been driving for a few more hours, now. Slowly, the sky started to dim, cotton clouds unspooling in the sky as thin as wispy threads, streaking the atmosphere. The carefully tended fields from before slowly started to disintegrate into rough chunks of grass and wildflowers, the weeds rising as tall as six feet in places.

Yang swore under her breath as the truck jerked over a particularly large crack in the road. “Sorry,” she murmured, “This is going to be a bumpy ride.”

Weiss had been peering out the window, tracking the odd circling of birds in the air, their cries rough and harsh. “Guys?” she asked, stabbing her finger at the glass. “What’s that?”

A dilapidated building rose in the distance; short and falling apart, crouching in the grass like the shattered exoskeleton of some primordial beast. The roof was broken cleanly through in some places, shattered glass jutting from the windowsills. Only one unbroken thing remained of the building - a wooden cross, tacked above the door.

The screeching of the birds rose in Ruby’s ears. She could only stare at the ruined church as they passed by, the cross seeming to grin at her as they continued on their way.

“Looks pretty abandoned,” Blake noted, her voice shivery and uncertain. Yang seemed the least perturbed out of the three other girls, the faintest thinning of her mouth in the rearview mirror the only sign of her discomfort. “What happened here?”

Nobody answered. A faint prickle on the back of Ruby’s neck was unsettling but not uncomfortable, and she continued staring out the window with a sense of trepidation.

As they continued, the road became more uneven, sharp rocks and deep cracks running lengthwise along the concrete, paint faded and peeling on the path. More buildings were seen in the distance - long and shadowed, each in ruins.

After their fourth church, Ruby spotted a sign. It was nearly overgrown with weeds, toppled in a ditch by the side of the road. She squinted and leaned against the window, rolling it down to catch a glimpse of the blurred words.

The words suddenly leaped out at her, bold and white and rusty.

_GOD IS DEAD_

Ruby yelped and jerked back just as Yang slammed on the brakes, snapping Ruby sharply against the seatbelt. The car swerved dangerously as something black flashed against the road, quick and sharp and streaking into the sky, and a loud _pop_ sounded from the back of the truck. Yang pulled the car into a small clearing by the side of the road, breathing heavily. The grass rose around them, taller than the truck, as forbidding as the sky above.

They all sat there, quietly  - Weiss was paler than usual, fingers clenching on the armrests. The seatbelt was digging into Ruby’s throat - she cautiously removed it, unclasping the hook.

“What _happened?”_ Blake asked, her voice tremulous, unsteady.

Yang exhaled slowly, shakily. “A bird suddenly flew in front of the car,” she muttered, pushing open the door. “It was flying really close to the wheels, so I stopped and tried to avoid it - I think the wheel dug into one of those sharp rocks on the side of the road.”

“God, I hate this place,” Weiss grumbled under her breath, picking up her book from where it had landed on the floor. “It’s like it was out to get us.”

 _Probably wouldn’t be a good time to mention the GOD IS DEAD sign,_ Ruby thought wryly. Yang had left the car and was opening the trunk, rummaging through her possessions. With a quick glance towards the back, Blake followed her outside.

“Yeah, flat tire,” Yang called. She sounded weary. “It shouldn’t take me more than fifteen to twenty minutes to change it; I’ve done this before. If you guys don’t mind waiting -”

“We can help,” Ruby heard Blake say, her voice soft, and Ruby started to scramble out the car, pushing the door open. After a heartbeat, Weiss followed. “It’s the least we can do.”

“Yeah,” Ruby said cheerfully - she spotted a small instruction manual lying crumpled in the corner of the truck and snagged it, attempting to unfold the crumpled pages. She squinted at the words and walked around the corner of the truck to where Yang was seated next to the offending tire, prying it away from the car. “So, step one -”

“I already know how to do this,” Yang grinned, looking up at Ruby affectionately. “You can put that back, Rubes.”

Ruby made a face at Yang, hearing Blake laugh from behind them. Still, she headed back to the trunk and was about to stow away the pamphlet when a large gust of wind knocked it from her hands.

“Oh, _no_ -” Ruby made a desperate grab for the paper, but it fluttered out her reach, swirling into the sky, dragged away from Yang’s truck and towards the grass. “No, no, _no -”_

“Ruby?” she heard Weiss call, but it was too late. She was already plunging towards the paper, crashing through the grass in an attempt to reach the manual. Ruby stumbled and nearly fell but continued moving, trying to regain her balance, when her hands suddenly hit air and she was through the thicket.

Ruby gasped; the first thing she saw was the pamphlet, lying innocently on the ground in front of her. She looked around - she somehow had crashed _through_ the grass, and now it rose behind her, six solid feet of weeds. The area she was standing in was a clearing of dirt and soil, mysteriously burned in a perfect circle, the paper lying a little ways to the side.

Ruby slowly moved to pick it up, tucking it in her pocket. When she turned to try to find where she’d entered, she was met with grass on all sides, mysteriously showing no imprint in where she had entered.

 _Oh,_ Ruby thought grimly, _I’m so screwed._

“Yang? Weiss?” she called, voice high and thin, surely lost in the grass. “Blake? Where are you?”

No answer. Despair was starting to set in, the weeds waving gently behind her, anchoring their claws around her chest. She could hear her heartbeat pounding in the silence, growing louder and louder until she couldn’t stand it.

There suddenly was a loud crashing noise behind her, and she was jerked out of her reverie, turned to find Yang, wild-eyed and disheveled, leaves caught in her hair. She strode forward and grabbed Ruby in a fierce hug - it lasted briefly, Ruby frozen in shock - before Yang pulled back and was shaking Ruby angrily.

“Where were you?” she demanded, hands gripped tight in the front of Ruby’s hoodie. “You shouldn’t _run off_ like that - Weiss was nearly beside herself - why would you do that?”

“I needed to get the paper,” Ruby explained, feeling slightly bewildered. “Yang, I’m fine - it was only for a few minutes, I was going to come back -”

Yang’s eyes shifted, anger turning to confusion. “A - a few minutes? Ruby, it’s been _half an hour._ ”

Ruby felt a slight chill run over her - she looked down at the paper clutched in her hand, at the packed dirt under her feet. “Half an hour?” she repeated.

Yang looked around - at the circular clearing, the burned dirt, the grasses standing sentry around them. Her face drained of color and she blinked before saying, in a low voice, “We should find Weiss and Blake.”

“How?” Ruby was feeling slightly dizzy - she looked up at the sky to ground herself and saw the sun was overhead - it should’ve been a lot brighter than this, but the clearing was dim and muted with no cloud obscuring the light.

Yang held up her hand. She was holding a length of thread, thin and red against her palm, tied around her wrist. “I made sure we wouldn’t get lost,” she explained with a brief grin before leading Ruby gently by the shoulder.

“Yang.” Ruby felt small as Yang guided her through the grass, spooling the thread around her arm as she continued. “I’m sorry - I didn’t think -”

“It’s not your fault,” Yang replied gently. She let out a sigh, breath whistling past her lips. “I was just worried about you - I don’t know, it’s weird, but I started to think of you as my responsibility. I’m gonna make sure nothing bad happens to you, okay?”

Ruby turned the words over in her head - she felt warm, almost safe. It made her feel grateful for Yang, like she was being wrapped in a warm blanket.

It’d been a long time since someone had felt the need to protect her like that.

“All right,” she replied, feeling small and young, and Yang smiled down at her before the plants parted before them and Blake was standing in front of them, looking less ruffled than Yang but still panicked.

“Yang,” she breathed before grabbing both their hands. “Ruby, you’re all right - come on, let’s get out of here -”

“There was some sort of weird circle,” Yang explained as they hurried through the grass. “It was like the ground was burned, and was perfectly round -”

A loud rustle came from behind them, and they stopped in their tracks.

Nobody moved. Blake seemed frozen still, a statue of marble and ebony, staring at the grasses with wary intensity.

“Was that Weiss?” Ruby asked in a small voice.

“She’s further on,” Blake replied, hissing through her teeth like she didn’t want to disturb anything.

“Guys,” Yang whispered, “Run.”

They took off, pounding through the shrubbery. Sticks cracked underneath Ruby’s feet and grass stung her face, but she continued, Yang’s hand in hers and Yang’s other hand in Blake’s. The rounded a particularly large plant and nearly crashed into Weiss, who was holding a length of rope and was pale and wide-eyed.

“No time,” Blake yelled - she was already breathless, dragging Yang behind her - “Go!”

Weiss seemed to understand - she grabbed Blake’s arm and started following the string, yanking the plants out of the way. Ruby took a look - the grasses were springing back into place like they had never been disrupted before, but an insistent growling was following them, snapping plants in its wake, too rough and deep to be an animal.

“Almost there,” Weiss shouted, hoarse and rough, and Ruby made a decision, grabbed her pocketknife out of her hoodie and unflicked the top - Blake gave a cry and Yang’s hand tightened on Ruby’s wrist and Ruby _threw_ the blade into the grass, heard it connect with something solid and they were through, stumbling past the ditch where Yang’s pickup truck stood, silently.

“Go, go, go -” Yang yelled -  they all piled in the car, slamming doors - Yang screeched onto the road and careened down the concrete, driving as fast as she could.

Once the initial shock and adrenaline had faded away, Ruby burst into a shaking fit of giggles - she felt her shoulders shake and braced her feet against the floor, unable to stop her bouts of laughter. Yang joined in, Blake, even Weiss - the car was filled with loud, exuberant noises, warm and blinding.

“Oh my god,” Blake finally managed, wiping tears from her eyes - “What even _happened_ -”

“We were being _chased_ -” Weiss said, her voice stumbling in mirth and slight hysteria, “By _something,_ and Ruby - Ruby, why do you even have a _knife_ \- disappeared somewhere for half an hour even though she must’ve only gone six feet away, and that place was just freaky as f-”

“There are some weird-ass places out there,” Yang said, shoulders shaking with mirth, “And I’m definitely sure that some of them are straight-up _apocalyptic,_ and I think Ruby just wandered into a circle from hell.”

“That’s true,” Ruby finally said, recounting the circle. “Remember all those churches? I think something weird happened back there.”

“Well,” Yang eventually said after a somber silence, “Is everyone all right?”

“I’m good,” Blake replied. Weiss nodded in agreement. “I guess… it was an adventure.”

The word isn’t lost on Ruby’s ears - she didn’t respond, still looking out the window. There’s a faint ringing in her ears, and she carefully turns it over in her mind - all the times she’d thought of going on a quest, to find her meaning, she always was alone.

 _But,_ she thinks again, watching the sky return to normal, _I’m glad I had my friends._

She glanced over at Weiss, who was combing leaves out of her hair, carefully and methodically, Blake and Yang, talking quietly in the front seat, Blake reaching to turn the volume up, Yang tapping her fingers against the dashboard.

Maybe adventure wasn’t meant to be a journey you took on your own.

-

Weiss plucked the last wayward leaf from her hair and glanced at the rest of the girls in the truck. Ruby was looking out the window, small and quiet, and Weiss suddenly was struck with how _young_ this girl was.

“Hey.” She spoke quietly, patting Ruby’s arm. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, voice quiet. She didn’t turn from the window, silvery eyes reflected in the glass. “Just… thinking.”

“Mm,” Weiss replied almost absently; she could see what Ruby was watching, crows wheeling in the sky, clouds floating past the car. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“And strange,” Ruby murmured, “And I guess it’s more dangerous than I thought.”

Weiss didn’t speak for a moment - she was glad that Ruby had recognized the danger, an almost vindictive righteousness - but it was fading almost as immediately as it burned in her chest, feeling a pang at the girl’s quiet expression.

“At least it was an adventure, right?” she asked, trying to smooth over the gap. It was awkward and stumbling; Weiss knew how to make conversation, fill in an empty gap while conversing with important people, but her upbringing hadn’t taught her to comfort someone with no personal gain or goal.

Ruby’s eyes brightened a little at that, eyes flashing. “Yeah,” she wondered, straightening in her seat. “I think so.” She smiled at Weiss, glancing at the front seat. “I’m glad you all were there.”

“You too,” Blake called from the front seat, “Just don’t wander into any demonic portals.”

Ruby giggled and Yang snickered from the front seat, the sounds warm and strangely similar. “Oh, weirder things have happened to me,” Yang said casually. “It’s a strange world out here, out in the middle of nowhere.”

Weiss doesn’t believe in magic, never has - however, she is willing to see how the world works, sometimes in mysterious ways, but always with an explanation or intention behind it. Nothing just _happens,_ but maybe there are unknown forces out here, wild and unrestrained.

That doesn’t mean she’s going to pay much thought to what crawls in the grass, though.

Blake’s recounting a story about how, when she was younger, wore cat ears on a headband for a week straight and refused to take them off, causing a friend of hers to believe she was part feline. “I eventually lost the headband,” Blake laughed, and it was slightly wistful, like she was remembering a distant, childhood memory.

“Your parents let you do that?” Weiss interrupted, unable to help herself -  the notion of degrading your appearance like that was foreign to her, and she winced at the mocking tone in her voice. _Not degrading -_

Blake’s mouth curved in a gentle smile. “They were confused at first,” she reminisced, “But when I told them how important that was to me, they agreed to let me do it.”

Weiss couldn’t help the sudden shock - she blinked at the other girl, slumping against the seat. She dimly recollected the time she’d grabbed a pair of scissors and cut her hair short, falling around her chin, watching the white float to the ground - her father had screamed and her mother had withdrawn into the shadows, watching as Weiss was struck to the ground with his harsh words.

She’d never touched those scissors again, and toyed with the long rope of white hair that now hung down her back.

“Do you have pictures?” she heard Yang ask, voice light and teasing and warm. “I’d want to see that.”

Blake glared at Yang, the look lasting only a second before a smile melted onto her face. “No, but I wish I did.”

Weiss glanced at the way Blake’s hand was resting near Yang’s on the dashboard, fingers nearly brushing, how neither of them were making a move to pull away - or get closer. She filed that information away, choosing not to think about it too deeply.

“I have some pictures of my dog,” Ruby announced suddenly - she reached into her pack and pulled out an impressive stack of photos, large and small. A few escaped from her hands and she made a frustrated noise, passing some to Weiss as she bent down to scoop the rest up, slightly restrained by her seatbelt. “There’s one of me with Zwei, and another of him trying to fit a whole watermelon in his mouth - he failed, by the way - and one of him with Summer when he was just a puppy -”

“Do you need some help?” Blake asked, peering at Ruby as she tried to grab an especially stubborn photograph wedged under Yang’s chair.

“Nah, I’ll get that one later,” Ruby replied cheerfully, flopping against the cushions. “Weiss, take a look at my dog, I’m sure you’re going to fall in love with him!”

“Nonsense,” Weiss grumbled, handing some photos to Blake. “I’m not going to just _take a look_ and fall in -”

She glanced at the photos, and, judging by the look of sudden glee on Ruby’s face, that she’d slipped and let her emotions show on her face.

 _“Aha!”_ Ruby declared, pointing at Weiss. “You _do_ love him!”

“Shut up,” Weiss shot back, making an attempt to erase the wide, silly grin that had appeared on her face once she’d taken a glance at Ruby’s dog, short and lying on his back with his stubby legs waving in the air.

 _Disgraceful,_ her father’s voice echoed in her ears, and she slammed them shut, crushing his voice as soon as it made an appearance.

She coughed and passed the photos to Blake, her earlier streak of happiness gone. “Here, take a look.”

Ruby glanced over at Weiss, looking somber and a little pensive. “Weiss, you okay?”

“Yes,” Weiss replied automatically - she regretted the word as soon as it passed her lips. “I mean, no. It’s not your fault,” she hastened to add as Ruby’s face crumpled a little, “I’m just… lonely.”

“I get you.” Ruby fiddled with the photographs that she still held in her hand. “This was my mom.” She passed a glossy picture over to Weiss, and it was of a woman - laughing as she stared into the camera, the frame tilted dangerously, managing to capture only half her face. One of Ruby’s thumbs was visible, obscuring the lens - it was obvious that she took the photo at a young age.

Weiss solemnly passed the photograph back. “She’s beautiful.”

Ruby’s lips quirked in a smile. “Thank you.” She carefully tucked the picture back into her pack. “I carry them around with me wherever I go, like I can bring her with me.”

She frowned, tapping her foot against the floor. “I know that sounds weird,” Ruby continued, “But it helped a little - knowing that I had her by my side. Still, it was lonely out here, by myself - until I met you and Yang and Blake.” Ruby nudged Weiss’s shoulder, bumping it gently with her elbow. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that you may feel lonely right now, but it’ll pass. We’re all here with you.”

Weiss glanced at the pack, where the photographs rested. She saw Ruby’s earnest, open smile, Blake laughing over the photos, holding them so Yang could look and drive at the same time, both laughing.

It was so surreal, to think that she would be in this place. Not _alone._

She smiled back at Ruby, returning the full force of the beam. “Yeah,” she replied softly, “I know.”

And the car felt less cold, after that, warmed by that knowledge.

-

“Let’s stop here,” Yang called, pulling into a parking lot - a worn-down diner was flashing neon signs under a faded, striped awning - the sun was near setting, faintly streaking the sky with soft pink and orange.

“Can we get fries?” Ruby asked excitedly, already yanking off her seatbelt - enthusiastic till the end. Weiss’s eyelids were already drooping, limbs aching - something inside of her both envied and respected the girl’s energy. “I love fries.”

“I agree.” Yang pulled the keys from the ignition, spinning them around her knuckles quickly, the cheap metal flashing like tin under the dim light. “Blake, Weiss, what do you say?”

“Sure,” Blake laughed softly under her breath. “Make sure you get something healthy, though.”

Both Yang and Ruby groaned at that. Weiss finally managed to push her eyes open and slide out of the car.

“You all right?” Blake asked, touching Weiss’s shoulder - Ruby had already dashed off to the diner, Yang chasing her - their bright laughter racing in the air. Weiss nodded, wishing for a steaming mug of coffee, warm food.

“Just a little tired.” Weiss pulled another smile onto her face, relieved when it came easier than before - muscles automatically flexing, like she was growing used to being… _happy._

Blake grinned. “We’ll get some food here. Next stop will probably be a motel, and you can sleep there.”

Weiss kept herself from wrinkling her nose - _stop,_ she chided herself. _You’re not a princess anymore, grow the hell up._

Instead, she said, “Sounds good,” and followed Blake into the diner.

Inside was dimly lit; illuminated by the sunlight streaming through open windows. Golden light was washing in through one of the half-open windows, and everything smelled like the faint scent of apples and baking bread. Guitar music was filtering from a crackling radio - Weiss wondered if any other type of music existed out here, in the open.

Ruby was sprawled in a booth, idly flicking at a container of salt - Weiss slid into the seat next to her, and the smaller girl brightened.

“Guess how many sugar packets I have in my pocket,” Ruby grinned.

Weiss watched Ruby coolly - after a minute, she suggested, “Twelve.”

Ruby’s eyes glittered, bits of steel shining with mischievous intent, and Weiss found herself dreading the answer.

 _“Twenty-one,”_ Ruby cheered, her grin becoming wider, slipping across her face.

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb. “You’re not going to take all of those, are you?”

“Oh, never,” Ruby said seriously, unpacking the pink and white packages from her pocket. She filed them carefully in the basket they were in originally, arranging them by color. “Maybe just one pack.”

Yang came back, holding four menus - she passed them around to Ruby and Weiss, sliding into the bench across from the two girls. Blake sat next to Yang, scanning the menu - her amber eyes flicked up and down, glancing every so often at Yang.

The diner was relatively empty, quiet and comfortable - Weiss was able to relax here, leaning against the scarlet, ripped leather seats - the smooth plastic tables, low murmur of the radio a distant hum in her ears.

She was surprised when the first thing she thought when she entered the diner was _cosy,_ not _dirty._

“I’m going to get a burger,” Ruby announced, plonking her menu down on the table with the crinkle of laminated paper.

“Salad,” Weiss countered, and Ruby wrinkled her nose.

“But they’re so…” she waved her arms in the air, the sleeves of her hoodie flapping. “Earth-y.”

“I’d much rather keep my body in functioning shape instead of enjoying unhealthy food,” Weiss sniped back.

Ruby poked Weiss’s side - in the car, she’d discovered Weiss was sensitive in that area, which had ensued a bout of tickling that ultimately ended in the destruction of Weiss’s hairdo and one of Ruby’s shoes flying into the front seat - and Weiss retaliated, reaching for the younger girl’s hood and pulling it over Ruby’s head to obscure her vision.

Dimly, through Ruby’s squeaks and laughter, she could hear Blake and Yang deciding quietly on what to order - eventually, they settled for sharing the nachos right before Ruby’s hand nearly punched Weiss in the nose.

“May I take your order?” A young woman is standing by their table - she’s elegant and poised even in a simple white blouse and black apron, scarlet hair curling down her waist - however, she looks mildly amused by Ruby and Weiss’s antics. Weiss unknots her fingers from Ruby’s hood and clears her throat - still, she doesn’t make a move to comb her hair down; she doesn’t have to look presentable anymore.

The woman takes their orders with a smile - the food comes out soon after, and Ruby digs in eagerly, grinning like this was the best meal she’d ever had - Yang and Blake were scooping toppings up with their chips, Blake laughing as Yang tried to steal a chunk of avocado from her chip. Weiss eats her salad and enjoys it more than she usually does - the leaves are a little wilted, but the flavors are fresh and savory and it doesn’t look perfect but tastes divine.

“Bet I can fit this whole bite into my mouth,” Ruby dared the table.

Yang shook her head, swatting fondly at Blake as Blake snagged the last bit of chicken. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

“Bet you can’t _eat_ it as well,” Weiss challenged, and Ruby flashes a wide, dangerous smile.

“Don’t choke,” Blake said idly, twirling a chip in her fingers - Yang was eyeing it, eyes glinting with a mischievous look eerily similar to Ruby’s. “We still have over half our trip left.”

Her words came too late - Ruby was already shoving the rest of the burger into her mouth, stuffing it in with such gusto Weiss was taken aback. With everybody’s interest piqued, Yang took the opportunity to lean in and eat the chip Blake was holding, eliciting a small yelp from the amber-eyed girl.

“M’f’n’shed!” Ruby announced gleefully, pointing at her mouth - Weiss wasn’t sure whether she should be appalled or impressed. She settled for a grudging admiration.

“C’grats,” Yang snorted through an equally full mouth. Blake shook her head fondly at them, her cheeks still tinged a faint pink.

The rest of their meal passed in comfortable laughter and conversation - Ruby, finished with her food, started stealing nachos off Yang’s plate - if Weiss also nicked a couple in the mayhem, that was her secret.

Eventually, Ruby’s energy started to dissolve into a content happiness - she huddled in her huge sweater, wedged into the corner of the booth, smiling faintly. Yang was taking her time, still working through the food - Blake reached up to wipe a stay bit of cheese hanging from Yang’s chin.

Weiss paid for their check - it wasn’t as if she couldn’t _afford_ ten times their meal easily, but the ensuing beam Yang gave her, Blake’s grateful look, Ruby’s rib-crushing hug made it somehow more worthwhile than any purchase she’d made in her lifetime.

“Off we go,” Ruby cheered, taking off to the car - she left the bell hanging from the door chiming as cheerfully as her voice - Weiss followed her second, irrationally nervous - _you’re just worried Ruby will run off like she did last time,_ she scolded - but Ruby stuck close to the group, checking back for Yang’s hair or Blake’s soft voice, grinning when she saw Weiss trailing her.

“Weiss,” she said, hushed and conspiratorial, “Take a look to your left.”

Weiss obliged - she saw Yang’s truck, gold and dark in the setting sun, the empty parking lot stretching around them, bright shadows flashing around them from the neon signs of the diner. Silky clouds were unfurling in the sky, dyed and vibrant.

“I see the sky,” she said eventually.

Ruby groaned. “No, not that - Blake, look to your left, what do you see?”

Blake turned from where she was standing next to Yang, squinting. She brought her hand up to block the light and called, “The sun.”

Ruby slumped. “Yang?”

Yang grinned at Ruby. “Just tell us what you see, Rubes.”

“You all are terrible,” Ruby grumbled. She stomped over to a faded sign standing in the lot near Yang’s truck, propped near a torn screen door that led into the same building the diner was in. It read, _YARD SALE._

“How would we have noticed that?” Weiss asked, unimpressed.

Ruby was pushing open the door already, peeking in. “There’s stuff here,” she exclaimed. “Yang, can we take a look? _Please?”_

Weiss and Blake glanced over at Yang, who shrugged. “Fine by me,” she said thoughtfully. “We should get on the road soon though, don’t want to sleep too late.”

“Mm.” Weiss followed Ruby inside and was hit with a sweet, cloying scent - like dried apple petals and cinnamon - she coughed and waved away smoke from her face, spiraling from twin sticks of incense stuck in a pot near the door. “Wh -”

Beads and ropes of dried flowers were hanging from the ceiling, obscuring the dusty boards. Rugs and shelves of assorted knickknacks were piled everywhere, junk and hidden treasures glinting from corners.

Weiss turned into a section lined with mirrors - different shapes and sizes, reflecting pale skin and hair back at her, shattered into pieces, glinting each step she took. Slightly entranced by the way the dim light was glinting off the glass, she stared for a moment, watching her fractured reflection.

Ruby gave a small yelp of delight from somewhere in the store, and the door creaked as Yang and Blake made their way in. Yang coughed on the smoke. “Is this store even open?”

“Of _course,_ ” a slightly annoyed voice creaked from a teetering pile of antique chairs. An old woman made her way from behind the pile, hand wrapped around a thick, gnarled twist of amber wood. She tilted her head at the girls, eyes obscured behind dark glasses. “I wouldn’t just leave my door unlocked if I wasn’t here to guard my junk, would I?”

“Of course,” Blake said quickly - she moved to inspect a small assortment of china, delicate and dusty. “We didn’t see you.”

“Apology accepted,” the old woman said - slightly annoyed, slightly teasing. “I haven’t had visitors in a long time. My name is Maria - what brings _you_ to the middle of nowhere?”

“Road trip,” Ruby said cheerfully, emerging from a shelf behind Weiss - it startled her, but Weiss kept her footing.

“Ah,” the woman sighed, almost wistfully, “To be young like you four.” She turned to one of the chairs, sat down in it heavily. “Make the most of your life, children. You’re the ones that will take care of this world, long after people like me are gone.”

Yang nodded, voice soft as she replied, “We will.”

Weiss moved along the shelves, looking at the trinkets - each one was obviously old, unique and screaming with memories from a time she couldn’t place, odd and old and timeless. Something caught her eye and she reached towards it - a row of figurines, as long as the palm of her hand to her fingertips.

She gently took a small, wooden figurine off the shelf - it was chipped and smudged, the paint peeling in places; a depiction of a small girl wearing  a dress was frozen in motion as she swung a thin, long rapier - but the carving was so intricate and detailed Weiss was half-sure the wooden weapon the carving was holding would have nicked her if Weiss slid her finger along the edge.

There was a soft shuffling behind Weiss - the old woman, lifting a finger to tap the carving. “A beauty, that.” She peered at Weiss. “She reminds me of you.”

Weiss was taken aback - the figurine was too delicate, too _strong_ \- but she simply said, “Thank you,” and moved to put it back on the shelf.

“Keep it,” the woman said softly. “Let her remind you of the strength you, too, possess.”

Weiss wanted to protest but her hands were moving, tucking the figurine safely into her pocket, nestling it against cloth. The old woman smiled, tanned skin crinkling around her eyes and the corners of her mouth, and she moved quietly away.

Weiss could hear Yang and Blake talking quietly - bright giggles from Ruby as she discovered a new treasure, muffled laughter from Blake as Yang commented on an object - Weiss palmed the small carving in her pocket and felt a sort of deep ache in her chest.

“You,” the old woman called suddenly - it rang through the shop, sharp and clear. “You, with the silver eyes. Come here.”

The summon screamed _Ruby_ all over, silver eyes like new thread winking from old tapestries. Weiss touched the figurine once more, then turned towards the entrance.

Weiss made her way to the front of the shop, to where Ruby was standing in front of the woman - Maria - Yang and Blake emerged from the right, a gold feather stuck in Blake’s hair - Yang quietly plucked it out.

Maria shuffled towards Ruby, withdrawing something from her side - a small _lamp,_ gold trim winking from the side in intricate patterns. Underneath was blue glass, slightly glowing from an unknown source - it winked in the air as Maria offered it to Ruby.

Ruby took it hesitantly, holding the lamp like she was afraid to drop it. “Uh, thanks -”

“It’s a gift,” Maria said steadily. The blue light cast shadows on her face, pooling at Ruby’s feet and making strange shapes dance on the walls. “The last of its kind. It was intended for one of my students, but I unfortunately wasn’t able to pass it on to her.” She sighed softly. “Maybe it can find good use with you.”

“What does it do?” Yang asked curiously. “Besides glow, I mean.”

Maria’s glasses glinted and she suddenly straightened, steady and sure. “Ask the lamp a question, and - only once, only for the speaker - it will grant your wish,” she said, her voice firm and steely and for once, Weiss didn’t feel the onset of doubt.

The moment passed, and Maria changed - posture unstraightening, leaning heavily on her cane once more, shuffling to herd the four girls out the door. “Out, you,” she said, voice rough and warm. “You must be on your way.”

“Goodbye, Maria,” they chorused, and the old woman’s face softened in a brief smile as she closed the door.

Right before the screen slammed shut, Weiss thought she saw the faintest glimpse of silver, but she wasn’t sure and it slipped from her mind as soon as she noticed.

Ruby was rubbing the lamp thoughtfully. “Weird, but cool,” she murmured.

“Does this seem very _Aladdin_ to you?” Yang asked, glancing at the lamp. “Does it actually work?”

“I believed her,” Blake said softly, firmly. “She didn’t sound like someone who would lie to spin a tale.”

Weiss didn’t say anything, but even after they had piled in the truck and took off, leaving the small diner behind them, she couldn’t stop her gaze from straying to the gleaming lamp tucked in the front seat, nestled in the space next to Yang’s feet; a blue glow against her eyelids, she leaned against her chair and watched the clouds pass by.

-

Edges of gold light gleamed from beyond the hills - the rest of the sun had slipped beneath the horizon, swallowing the sky in lavender and denim blue.

“I think they’re sleeping,” Blake said softly from the front seat - Yang twisted around to peer into the backseat. Weiss was slumped against the side of her seat, chin propped on her hand, hair down and strewn around her in white ropes. Ruby had curled up in her chair, hooking her feet over the armrests, sprawled across the space like a blanket. Her magazine was close to slipping to the floor, and as an afterthought Blake reached to gently place it on the floor.

Yang watched Blake as she did it - it was dangerous, she knew, to keep her eyes off the road - but they were alone on the street and there was nothing out here except birds and the crumbling sun, the hills in the distance the only ones privy to her moment of weakness.

Blake yawned widely, hand reaching to cover her mouth. It didn’t work and she looked adorably off-kilter as she blinked, eyes slightly dazed and half-lidded. Their sharp amber color was softening, eyes drooping at the corner.

“Sleep,” Yang said - a little too tenderly, but she couldn’t help it. Something happened when she was with Blake; tongue loosening, heart opening. “I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Blake argued, although it wasn’t as strong as Yang knew Blake was capable of. “I’ll help keep watch. Don’t want you to be lonely.”

Yang settled back without further protest, raising her hand in defeat - Blake smiled at Yang, and _oh_ \- eyes crinkling at the corners, face softening even more, pliable and warm and bright - Yang was terrified for a brief moment, because if she had just an ounce less self-control she thinks she might have kissed Blake in that moment.

 _Don’t,_ she remonstrated, fingers clenching. _You’re only with her a short time, nothing more. She’s just a friend. Don’t make it weird._

Blake reached to turn on the radio, the static crackling. Words drifted in the space between them, slow and sweet.

 _“The enchanted lands of Faerie,”_ a sweet, lilting voice crackled from the radio. _“Where wanderers who enter, must be wary...”_

“Magic,” Blake murmured out loud. “Makes you wonder if it’s real.”

Yang shrugged. “I believe,” she said lightly, thinking of dark wings and lightning words. A pair of eyes, chips of amber glowing in the dark. “I just don’t ask the impossible of it.”

Raven taught her about magic, but as something that shouldn’t be taken lightly; it was a burden you must bear, a curse but sometimes a blessing. Magic was something that children shouldn’t toy with, but Yang thinks she’s past being a child now.

Blake went quiet, fingers tap-tap-tapping along with the beat. Yang pressed her foot against the gas pedal and continued in the hazy music. “I’m wondering what that thing is,” Yang mused, tilting her head towards the lamp. It flickered softly. “I don’t see any light source, but it’s definitely _real_ \- can’t figure it out for the life of me.”

Yang doesn’t like figuring things out, taking the time to piece things together and form words out of jumbled messes. She’d rather punch her way through, break past the mirrors, burn through the smoke. Life didn’t wait for you to take a breath, and Yang didn’t either.

The music lilted, slipping in the spaces in their conversation. Blake shrugged, eyelashes flickering as she glanced at Yang. “Magic,” she offered wryly, and Yang laughed.

 _“Why does the traveller wander in these strange moors,”_ the singer crooned, _“For heartsickness and longing, here be cures…”_

Blake yawned again, fingers fluttering in front of her mouth. “I’m going to take a nap,” she finally murmured, eyes blinking in the light. “Wake me up if you feel lonely.”

“Sure,” Yang agreed, although she knew she wouldn’t want to disturb Blake. She was already looking healthier, less pale and shadowed like she was before - Yang had always found her beautiful, she supposed, but Blake looked happier and that made Yang feel warmer inside.

_“What do their hearts seek, in the lands of Faerie? Caught up in the line between reality and imaginary…”_

There are three things she can’t figure out, can’t place her finger on - the scrap of photograph curled in her pocket, everpresent; the strange lands and the lamp glittering next to her knees; the visitors in her car, a girl curled catlike in the seat next to her, golden light lining the curve of her throat and edges of her hair.

Yang felt a pang of something sharp go through the back of her throat - intense and bitter; she identified it as loneliness, and wondered at the feeling - with every seat in her truck filled, soft noise filling the usually empty spaces.

She didn’t even glance at the lamp, but her fingers brushed it - the smooth glass, gliding along the ridged edges, gold and turquoise and amber.

 _Will I ever find my family?_ she thinks; the thought comes on a whim, a passing mention no less; it was half-meant as a joke, because Yang Xiao Long isn’t one to rely on an inanimate object to fulfil her dreams, she’s going to complete them herself. _Will I ever belong?_

 _You’ll have to do that on your own; you’re the only one that can do this,_ she tells herself, as she’s done for the past year, but that’s normal, just a mantra she chants to fill her mind.

The lamp glows from the floor, like an answer, and Yang nearly laughs.

Magic is one of the things she hasn’t figured out yet, and Yang doesn’t ask the impossible of it; however, she thinks she’s allowed this question, just the once.

-

Bumblebee jerks over a particularly large crack and Yang swore, sharp under her breath. Blake jerked awake next to her, eyes flashing wide open. Her hands gripped the armrests and she spun around, breathing hard, relaxing only when her eyes snagged on Yang.

“Hey,” Yang said, concern drowning out the brief flare of panic. “I’m so sorry - are you all right?”

Blake nodded faintly, dragging her hand down her face. “Didn’t know where I was for a second,” she said simply, mouth twisting in a wry look. “What was that?”

“Probably a crack in the road. Can’t see,” Yang murmured, peering out the dashboard. Fog was clouding the space in front of her dashboard, like pale fingers pressing against the sides of the windows, gripping the cracks for traction. “It’s foggy out here.”

Blake nodded just as Yang’s truck stumbled over another crack - this one was longer, wavering across the whole road, shaking the backseat awake. Ruby yelped, nearly falling off her seat - the seatbelt held her in place and she blinked groggily at Yang. “Wha -”

“Bumpy road,” Blake explained. “You all right?”

Ruby kicked her feet, attempting to wiggle back into a comfortable spot. “Yeah,” she mused. “Hey, is Weiss awake?”

“She is now,” Weiss grumbled, stirring from her spot.

Yang flicked on the headlights on her car. They cut a milky path through the mist, wavering and blurred. “Excellent,” she quipped. “The gang’s all here.”

Blake tapped the radio, which was still steadily murmuring in the background. “There’s almost no static,” she said thoughtfully. “We should be close to a town.”

Ruby was doodling in the condensation creeping up the windows - funny faces and odd scribbles. “Hey,” she said, pointing to a figure wearing a grin that spilled past its face and flaming hair. It’s a child’s drawing, messy, but Yang likes it. “That one’s Yang.”

“I look like I just got a high off electrocuting myself,” Yang commented after twisting around to peek at the drawing. “Thanks, Rubes.”

“Anytime,” Ruby said idly, poking at the window. “This one’s Blake -” she gestured towards a girl with triangles jutting from her head, vaguely ear-shaped - “and that one’s Weiss.”

Weiss glanced at the stick figure wearing at T-shirt that said _RUBY’S BFF_ and sighed, shaking her head. “You dolt.”

Yang thinks Weiss means it, but in her own way; fond of the little girl in red, like she was. There was something about their group that made it pull together, wound tight like clockwork.

Cars pulled up beyond the window, drove by. Yang couldn’t see them exactly, just their wavering shapes outlined in the fog, headlights blinking and flashing as they spun in the mist. She focused on keeping the wheel steady, following the yellow strips on the road.

Nobody could sleep; this place was different than the grasses from earlier. While they were uninviting and hostile - this place was more sleepy, powerful and dangerous but willing to watch and let people pass by.

Someone else was singing on the radio - a man’s voice, deep and rough, like gravel scraping under a riverbed. _“You’ve seen us before, darlin’; drunken figures in the night… our kingdoms are backstreet alleyways, wings too ravaged to take flight.”_

Strange lights were flickering in the distance; Yang paid them no heed. Blake watched them, eyes carefully tracking their movements. Pale purple, light gold.

“This place gives me the chills,” Weiss said after a moment. “Even more than the grass.”

“Guess it’s too _we-icy_ for you,” Yang cracked, just to ease the tension, and Blake hid her smile behind her hand. Weiss sighed in defeat, glaring at Yang. “Kidding, kidding.”

“We-icy,” Ruby repeated, snickering, and Weiss’s glare could’ve skewered both girls with one look. Yang prefers it to cold indifference.

“I’ll murder you in your beds,” she threatened.

“Not doing much to discredit the _serial killer hitchhiker_ vibe,” Blake said mildly. Her hands are tied together in her lap, clasped and interwoven.

Weiss settled against her seat, watching the land roll by. “I can get things done when I want to.”

The lamp was still glowing, lighting the inside of Bumblebee with an eerily blue tint. It blurred the windshield and Yang waved her hand in front of the surface, trying to block the reflection. Pale blue shadows spun in front of her face and she groaned, something ticking in the back of her mind, a slow buzz - like a voice.

“Can one of you throw something over this in the back?” she asked, jerking her hand towards the lamp. “Need to concentrate here.”

Ruby obliged and there was shuffling from the back, Weiss grunting something in reply to a hushed mutter. With the light slightly gone, Yang was able to see how _empty_ their surroundings were, stretching into the night.

She shuddered slightly. The sharp tang was back in her throat, burning. Yang fought the feeling of being stranded, floating in the sea, wide and open and _alone._

Yang knew that being lonely was part of her life - fend for yourself, don’t show weakness, don’t give people the chance to leave you. She could hold her own against the monsters and villains, but there was nothing that taught her how to bare the deepest core of her heart.

Her arm gave a pang, cramping, and she rubbed it absently, trying to peer through the mist. _Get through; you’ll be all right._

“Hey,” Blake said quietly, reaching over to tap Yang’s wrist. “Are you tired?”

“Everyone’s tired,” Yang said lightly, ignoring the ache behind her shoulders. “I think we should be able to get through in a few minutes.”

Blake was silent for a few moments; she seemed to be thinking, chest rising and falling as she breathed. Finally, she murmured, “You deserve to rest, too.”

Yang shrugged, a bit taken aback. “Gotta look out for my passengers,” she replied, and it was less bright than before, voice cracking.

“Look out for yourself, too,” Blake said dryly. Her voice got softer, warmer. “Yang, sometimes I think you have so much love to give, but you don’t pay yourself any heed.”

Bumblebee shuddered under Yang’s hands and her eyes stung - she blinked them away in the rearview mirror, eyes flashing. “I -”

“We’ll stay by you,” Blake said simply, leaning back in her seat. “I promise.”

“Don’t promise,” Yang said roughly - she regretted the words as soon as she said them, Blake’s face crumpling in the soft light. “I don’t know how you’ll be able to keep it.”

 _“So I laugh and I cry and I fall in love; this human heart constrains me,”_ the radio rasped. _“These kin of mine are riven to the bone, and into the future I cannot see.”_

They passed by in quiet - some animal was wailing outside, a low cry, mournful and sorrowful. There was no malice in the note, but the wail was too painful, and Yang pressed her foot against the gas.

“You’re strong,” Blake said eventually, her voice thick. “It’s one of the first things that’s noticeable about you.”

“Yeah,” Ruby piped from the backseat - her silver eyes were glinting faintly in the moonlight, large and youthful. “You went to look for me when I got lost. You gave me a ride.”

“Anyone would -” Yang started to protest, but Weiss interrupted.

“You stood up for me in that diner,” Weiss said, quiet and steady. “And you can hold your own out here.”

“Not many people are like you, Yang,” Blake said fiercely. “You’ve done so much.” She leaned back in her chair, eyes leaving no room for Yang to argue. “You deserve to know that there are people that will fight for you the way you fight for others.”

 _I’ve been looking for them_ is what Yang meant to say, but the words stuck in her throat; all she could muster was a smile, sad and sweet, dragging her lips with hazy fingers.

“Thanks,” she whispered instead, fingers tightening on the wheel. The mist was dissolving in front of Yang’s wheels, the sky outside clearing. Tottering bridges rose in the distance, skeletal figures rising beyond the clouds, and Yang felt the usual buzz of adrenaline sparking under her ribcage, synapses firing.

She prefers fire to ice, has always gone with the flow; Yang doesn’t wait for life to beat her into the ground, because she trusts herself to roll to her feet and punch her way back up. However, she hasn’t felt like this before, that she has something to lose.

The seats in her truck are filled, laughter and jokes and the past few days offering more adventure than Yang has ever experienced - she’s been in danger before, but never on a _team._

 _A team,_ Yang thinks, _these strangers, they’re my friends._ The thought makes something go through her, soft and comforting - a hug, maybe - a cup of tea on a cold day, steaming apple pie straight from the oven, ice cream melting under the sun.

She’s not sure when the word _team_ became synonymous with _family_ in her mind, and it startles her to make that connection.

 _“And though my grace burns my throat; I’ve been laughing since my birth,”_ the radio coughs out, _“My dear, they tell you of the angels up in heaven… but not the ones that fell to Earth.”_

Bumblebee purred under Yang’s hands and they broke through the fog; the sky wheels above them, streaked with purple and blue, studded with pale light like stars.

Ruby made an awed sound, eyes wide and reflecting the sky. Her normally fidgety hands were still in her lap, clasped like a child. Weiss was blinking up at the sky, quiet and thoughtful - she’s humming something under her breath, lilting and hushed.

Blake rolled down the window and _laughed,_ bright as she tilted her head to see the night, silver lining the curve of her chin and the edge of her throat.

Yang’s eyes are full of the dark, too - she’d usually feel weightless, strapped in by the glass and metal of her truck, but for the first time she doesn’t want to run, to go with the flow.

She found something worth fighting for; maybe it’s her family.

-

Blake had rolled down the window again, letting the wind blow into the truck. The bumblebee pendant winked from the dashboard, glinting in the harsh light. She leaned against the warm metal, watching the scenery roll by.

“Not much to see,” Yang commented - she was wearing a pair of sunglasses, dark and shading her eyes against the blazing light. It was hot outside, the sun beating against the scorching red rocks, plateaus of claylike formations spiraling into the air. “It’s pretty hot out here.”

“I’ll say,” Ruby grumbled. She’d shed her hoodie and was looking unhappy about it, wearing a dark T-shirt with the silvery imprint of a rose stamped onto the front. “It’s a bunch of rocks.”

“I think this place is cool,” Weiss noted, looking out the window. “Look at those canyons.”

It was miles of pale red rock and clouds streaking the pale pink sky overhead, desert and scrub brush and rocky spirals towering in the distance. Blake felt small, a little bit empty in this vastness.

“Anyone have any water?” Yang asked, and Ruby nodded before diving into her pack and rooting around before emerging with a small bottle. “Thanks, Rubes.”

“No problem…” Ruby searched for words before settling on, “Yangster.”

“Yangster?” Blake asked, unable to hide the amusement from her voice.

“Gangster?” Ruby snickered, “More like.. _Yangster.”_

“Oh my god,” Weiss groaned, hiding her face in her hands while Ruby broke out into full peals of laughter. “That’s literally the worst thing I’ve heard this entire trip, second only to Yang’s puns.”

“You two sound alike,” Blake observed, and both Yang and Ruby grinned at her, twin smiles in earnest faces. _And look alike,_ something in her mind whispered, but she stopped it there.

Yang leaned back to unscrew the bottle of water, and Blake couldn’t take her eyes away - the way her throat moved as she drank, the quick surety of her moves and the way her free hand tightened on the wheel ever so slightly.

Blake went back to looking out the window, feeling hot and itchy all over, a tenseness she couldn’t place - like she was a clock, wound too tight. She placed it on the hot weather, but Blake knew that wasn’t the cause.

She just didn’t want to admit what it might’ve been.

Birds wheeled overhead, crying something short and sharp to each other. In the distance, heat played with the air on the horizon, wavering like a veil. Tugging it this way and that way, and Blake continued watching, eyes ahead.

Blake and the word _carefree_ don’t fit together, jumbled puzzle pieces that she can’t tug into a comprehensible piece. Bits of gold and pale red like the rocks outside, irises like the first violets of spring; they all clamor for a space, jutting against the iron-strong walls Blake’s put in place around her heart.

She doesn’t keep her thoughts inside; however, Blake knows she’s played with the future before, impulsive thoughts and actions. She’d spill blood; has and will do it again, that much won’t change for her future.

Maybe she wants something to believe in, something to fill the gaping part in her body where she’d ripped the cancer from her bones, where a poisonous growth in the shape of a boy with a quick tongue and bloody hair had latched itself to her soul, clouding her eyes until she ran, the wound fresh and raw on her heart.

“You’re brooding again,” Yang noted, mouth curling into a faint smile.

“I’m not _brooding,”_ Blake argued back, jolted back to the present. She became aware of her tenseness and let her muscles unclench, mouth soften, shoulders relax. “Just thinking.”

“Pretty heavy thinking.” Weiss didn’t look away from the window, but curiosity was evident in her tone. “What about?”

“The world, I guess.” Blake tapped her fingers against the juncture of the window and car door. “It’s a big place.”

_With so much wrong in it._

Blake wants to make a change, but she doesn’t know where to start.

“Big and hot,” Ruby said lightly from the backseat, softening the conversation. “I seriously regret my clothing choices. I’m melting in here.”

“You’re really pulling off the angsty aesthetic.” Weiss scanned Ruby up and down. “You know, with all the red and black.”

“I _like_ those colors,” Ruby squawked indignantly from the backseat.

“Blake,” Yang called, nudging Blake in her side - “Look. Up ahead.”

Blake squinted against the light, seeing a small smudge on the horizon. “Is that… a stall?”

“Fruit stand,” Yang grinned. She pulls off her shades and her eyes are amethyst, bright and sharp like crystals. Blake suddenly finds herself as lost in them as she would be if she was looking out the window at the strange landscape, and the thought intrigues her. “Anyone want to make a stop? They might have water.”

“Yes, please,” Ruby said fervently. “I’d fight a wolf for a bottle of cold water - no, scratch that, I’d fight _ten_ wolves, please get us to that stall.”

“Alright, alright,” Yang teased, pressing on the gas - the stall is becoming clearer and clearer amongst the clouds of dust, and Blake idly wonders if she packed sunscreen _\- of course not, of course you didn’t_ \- she looks at the tanned skin of her forearm and sighs.

Maybe water is a good idea.

A few minutes later, Yang is pulling alongside the stand - Ruby doesn’t leap out the door, rather, she waits for the first person to leave (Weiss, in this case) and then bounds after them.

“I think she’s becoming less impulsive,” Yang noted, pausing for a brief moment to look at Ruby with a fond smile - nearly sisterly, protective and kind. Blake’s jolted back to a brief memory of her parents with a pang - she files away their faces in her mind, saves it for later. “Less _fight the world,_ more _think about it and then fight the world._ ”

“Thinking is good,” Blake replied. “Impulsivity is good, too - as long as you keep an eye on those around you.”

Yang cracked a smile. “Let’s get going then, Blake.”

They leave the car and Blake shades her eyes against the light - she sees Ruby and Weiss standing by the patchy stall, Ruby in varying stages of delight as she points at the baskets of fruits lined against the boards.

“I haven’t seen _that_ kind of fruit before,” Ruby exclaimed, picking up a oblong, reddish fruit - it’s smooth and round, cool to the touch when Blake pokes experimentally at it. “What kind is it?”

The girl behind the stall shrugs - she has maroon hair tied in a ponytail hanging down her back, tanned skin with freckles on the edge of being sunburnt. “Not sure. All I know it’s good for human consumption,” she says, almost a bit unsettled. Blake assumes it’s due to the unbridled energy coming off Ruby.

“Do you have any water?” Blake asked, and the girl nodded before passing a few bottles to Blake. Blake gratefully took them, relishing the cold touch.

“You with them?” the girl asked, tipping her head towards where Ruby, Weiss, and Yang were discussing the types of fruit in the stand.

“Yeah. Road trip.” Blake wondered if her past self would be in awe of the situation she’s currently in - she settles for a resounding _yes,_ that she wouldn’t change anything for the way things are now. “Trying to get to the coast.”

The girl nodded, wisps of her mahogany hair falling in front of her face. “No charge for the water and whatever fruit you want,” she said, smiling softly at Blake. “Except for your name.”

Blake blinked - she wasn’t sure about the feeling curling in her chest - a faint awkwardness, maybe, but she replied, “Blake.”

The girl looked like she was going to say something, but Yang stepped forward, brushing Blake’s side with her arm. The point of contact was startling, sending chills through Blake’s body even though she was near sweating - not unpleasant, but odd. “Hey,” she beamed, bright and gold. “I’m Yang. You are?”

“Ilia,” the girl replied, blinking gray eyes. They flicked from Blake to Yang, once, twice, before her smile shifted into a soft _knowing,_ bordering on a smirk. _I see_ was written in her eyes, but Blake wasn’t entirely sure what it was about. “You the owner of the truck?”

Yang nodded. “Her name’s Bumblebee,” she said, proudly, and Blake smiled, laughed softly. _Bumblebee - like the pendant hanging from the rearview mirror._

Ilia nodded, stepping back from the stall. “I recommend the strawberries,” she said lightly, pushing a small crate of red fruits towards the two girls. “They’re good this time of year. Safe travels, you four.”

“You too,” Yang said brightly - Weiss and Ruby took that as a cue to leave, Ruby and Yang heading to the other side of the car to get in.

Weiss tugged at Blake’s elbow. “You know she was interested in you, right?” she asked, her pale eyes glinting with amusement.

“Oh,” Blake replied, thinking back at their interactions - it slid into place like a puzzle piece clicking. “I don’t know, she seemed nice.”

Weiss nodded sagely. “She backed off when Yang came over,” was all she threw back, sliding into the backseat with Ruby. “Just saying.”

“I -” Blake faltered, stumbled over her words - because she wasn’t sure what that meant, _Yang being protective, Blake being transparent_ \- but Weiss’s smile had turned into a full-out grin and Blake was in the front seat, closing the door behind her.

“Ready to go?” Yang asked, eyes bright, and Blake nodded.

They were off, Blake tapping the dashboard absent-mindedly. After a few moments she became aware of Yang saying something, so she turned and was hit full-in the face with the sun, rays blinding her eyes - and maybe it wasn’t just the brightness but Yang’s smile, hair curling in gold and turning to light at the edges, steady and strong and everything Blake ached for, and -

“Blake?” Yang blinked and Blake was jerked back to the present. “I was asking if you wanted a strawberry…?”

“Oh, yeah.” Blake took the fruit from Yang’s hand and smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“Anytime,” Yang said easily, and Blake looked back - she caught Weiss’s eyes in the rearview mirror and the paler girl shook her head, unable to hide the mirth in her gaze. Blake groaned and shifted so she was looking back out the window, rolling the berry in her hand.

_Oh, she knew that feeling._

She let the sweetness explode across her tongue, delicate and mellow, strawberries on her lips and Blake thought about a pair of eyes, burning and crystal and achingly familiar.

-

The sun’s setting, and Ruby’s in the back sleeping, hand fallen next to a small book she’d brought with her - thick and leather-bound, half-open to a drawing of a girl in a forest. Weiss, next to her, had somehow produced earbuds and was now listening to music, eyes faraway.

They’re both in their own different worlds, and Blake feels like it’s just her and Yang, alone in the front seat.

“Funny how we’re here,” Yang says, it’s spoken into the stillness, and Blake turns her head to look at her. Pink and orange tint Yang’s skin and make her glow, somehow brighter than the sun, and the image makes Blake’s heart race and mind settle somehow at once.

“It’s like the world gave us all these choices,” Blake muses, “And we pulled the right strings to be sitting here now.”

“Maybe it’s destiny,” Yang quipped. Blake laughed.

“Deliberate factors,” she countered.

“Mm, try fate.” Yang’s eyes flash, deep pools of amethyst.

“Conscious decisions,” Blake replied.

“Magic.”

“Science.”

“Explain everything that happened on this trip,” Yang said teasingly, poking Blake in the side with her free hand. “The lamp next to Weiss, currently - the circle from hell, me finding you -”

The sky is breathtaking, a myriad of colors, but Blake’s only drawn to the gold girl next to her in the front seat. Bright and untarnished, warm.

“Fine,” Blake relents, grinning - she bats at Yang’s wrist in retaliation. “Maybe a little bit of magic.”

Yang pumped her fist in the air and Blake laughed. “Knew it,” she cheered. Her hand fell down to rest on the wheel and her voice became softer. “But, you’re right - we’re all in here because we’re looking for something.”

“Yeah.” Blake shifted on her side, tracking a particularly bright streak of orange as it tangled across the sky. “It’s funny, how everything’s falling into place.”

_(Blake wasn’t sure when her healing place became the front seat of Yang’s yellow pickup truck, but she’s not exactly going to complain.)_

Yang’s hand dropped to her side - she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a faded piece of paper. Blake tracked her movements, curiously, then with growing concern as Yang’s fingers shook - she passed it to Blake, who handled the picture with care.

She saw the two figures, the man and the woman. “Oh,” she said softly. “Who are they?”

Yang shrugged. “Dunno.” She peered at the sunset, hands on the wheel. “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Blake absent-mindedly thumbed the photo - there was a faint sort of recognition in the back of her mind, a puzzle piece about to fit in with the rest, turned the wrong way - unrecognizable enough that it didn’t click. “Is that why you’ve been on the road?”

“My mom raised me by herself,” Yang said, voice oddly rough. “I’d grown up never knowing who my father was, what he looked like, what he would’ve thought of his daughter that he might not know exists right now. I’ve been looking for him. For a family, I guess.”

She could tell that this photograph meant a lot to Yang - a weight in her hands, hopes and dreams all in a torn piece of paper that could easily be lost to the wind.

Blake silently passed the photograph back to Yang, feeling heavy. “I’m sorry that you grew up without him.”

Yang’s smile was wry, twisting her lips to the side. “Don’t be. I’m on my way to find him.”

Blake finds Yang’s tenacity to continue burning admirable - she wishes she had that spark, something to burn away the shadows with.

Yang chanced a glance at Blake, soft and almost vulnerable. “What about you?”

“What?”

“Your search,” Yang repeated.

An odd question - not unpleasant to untangle, but something Blake would have to pick apart, like knotted string - each meaning and motive varying.

Blake looks back. “When I was young, I was nearly weighed down by the injustice in the world.” She waved her hand in the air, watching the golden light play patterns across the tanned skin. “I wanted to do something about it - I attended rallies, read books.”

She thinks about Adam, with his bright hair and eager words. She’d found him handsome, for a while - maybe thought he was the one, but that turned out to be false. “I met a boy. And for a while, we were going to change the world.”

Blake dropped her hand to her side. “It didn’t work. He grew angry - our movements were now consisting of violence to get what we wanted, but it was _working._ ” She huffed a short laugh. “I didn’t want this to be the future I was part of.”

Yang was quiet, allowing Blake to push on - she tried her words, fumbling for the right emotions, red streaks and gasoline. “I was scared,” she admitted, feeling the burn. “I confronted him one night and he - I guess he lost his temper and lashed out. I left that night, and here I am.”

“I’m sorry,” Yang murmured, and it was odd, but she seemed to _mean_ it, words warm and soft. “You deserved more.”

Blake felt the familiar burn in the back of her throat. “All I do is run,” she confessed. “I didn’t even stand up to Adam - I _wanted_ to, but I wasn’t sure - I have all these dreams, but I don’t know what to do.” She folded her hands in her lap, trying to still them. “Maybe I’ll find my new start in Beacon.”

“Hey.” Yang’s voice was still soft, and Blake was drawn to her eyes, wide and warm. “Remember when you said I was strong?”

Blake started in surprise, but Yang reached out and tapped her nose. _“You’re_ capable of so much, and your dreams are out there - you, Blake Belladonna, are _powerful._ You are capable of doing so much and creating so much good in the world, and I believe in you - you’ll take anything and come back ten times stronger, and I believe in you.” She leaned back in her seat, grinning at Blake. “How’s that for a pep talk?”

Blake struggled to find words - finally, she settled on, “Pretty good,” and a smile.

“I meant it,” Yang said firmly, and Blake felt a shiver run through her. “You’re the strong one, here.” Yang’s grin shifted into something more mischievous - “Besides, men really aren’t my thing anyways.”

Blake _laughed,_ warm and happy, and she felt a small ray of light shine within her. She thought about it, turning her future over and over in her mind.

Maybe it was hope.

-

They’ve pulled into a motel, and it’s nearly midnight. Ruby’s book has fallen to the floor, and Blake picks it up carefully and places it on the seat next to her, fingers smoothing over the cover, folding pages back into their place. Yang parks the car with a sigh, hands slow.

Weiss forces her feet to move - everyone is moving sluggishly, heading towards the reception desk where Blake is talking with the clerk. She emerges with two sets of keys and a worn smile.

Yang is carrying Ruby on her back, a sisterly action - Ruby stirring faintly, obviously exhausted. Yang takes a set of keys and passes it to Weiss, who takes it without thought and heads to the trunk where her pack is stowed.

“I got Ruby’s,” she called, heaving the smaller girl’s pack onto her back. Blake takes Yang’s, and her eyes are soft when she looks at Yang, and Weiss feels like she’s witnessing the start of something new, like a star exploding into being in slow motion.

A blue glow catches her eye, and she nearly pauses as she moves to close the trunk door - it’s the lamp, gleaming softly from the back of the space. Weiss lingers - she taps the blue surface, picking it up and slinging it in her bag after a second thought.

“Hurry, Weiss,” Yang called - her eyes are tired, blinking as they focus on Weiss. “I think Ruby’s going to pass out any second now.”

“M’not,” Ruby grumbled. She patted Yang’s shoulder in an obvious _put me down_ motion and Yang obliged. “I’m awake.”

“You and Blake take the second room,” Weiss says, jingling her pair of keys - if it’s because she wants to slowly push the two together - because the spark’s _obvious_ \- she doesn’t draw attention to it. “I got Ruby.”

“Thanks, bestie,” Ruby grinned sleepily at Weiss, who smiled back and shoved the smaller girl’s shoulder lightly.

“Go take a shower, that’ll wake you up a bit,” Weiss directed. She watched Yang and Blake file into their room before shutting the door behind her.

It’s a motel room - slightly run-down, clean but yellowed sheets, cracking plaster. At least the water is hot and she has a bed of her own, Weiss supposed, but at this point she really doesn’t mind the places they stay in anymore.

She sits down on her bed amongst the sound of running water and unpacks her bag - takes out a change of clothes, a hairbrush, her toothpaste - and her hand hits the lamp she stowed in her pack.

Weiss took it out and held it in front of her - nothing about the lamp really commanded her attention - but there was a faint sensation on the back of her hand, tingling - like she was waiting for a roll of thunder, something wild crackling across the sky.

 _Wish,_ a voice whispered in her mind, and Weiss finds the thought coming to her unbidden.

 _I wish I could find happiness,_ Weiss thinks, _I wish I could find a part of myself I’m happy with._

And the moment passes.

“I’m done showering,” Ruby called from the back of the room, cheerful. “Weiss, it’s your turn - I saved some hot water for you!”

“Give me a minute,” Weiss replied, and she set the lamp down next to the bedside table.

She’d give it another thought at a different time.

-

It’s dark outside, and Yang’s startled awake by a soft noise coming to her left.

She blinks blearily at the light - the bathroom lamp is on, and the soft sound of running water came to her ears. Yang turned on her side - Blake’s bed is empty, covers pushed to the side.

“Blake?” she asked, word slurred - panic rose in her  mind, coming from someplace dark inside her - _where is she, where is she, I need to find her -_

“I’m here.” The water shut off and Blake went out from the bathroom, holding something in her hand. It’s a mug, and Yang flops back in relief at seeing the dark-haired girl. “Just needed water.”

“Was worried,” Yang mumbled, and she relaxed - for some reason, she was able to sleep again, knowing her road trip partner was safe. “About you.”

Blake laughed softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. “I’m not leaving,” she said softly, and Yang felt something card through her hair, brushing her forehead. Blake withdrew her hand but Yang reached out, holding her wrist gently.

“Stay,” she murmured - her tongue was loose and Yang knew it was impossible, that they would have to leave each other at the end of the road, but she was half-asleep and _wanted_. “Don’t go.”

Blake’s hand hesitated, and her voice was slow and faltered with an unknown emotion  when she whispered, “Goodnight, Yang.”

Then she was gone and Yang ached, but the darkness was already dragging her eyelids down.

-

The morning rose and they piled out of the motel, Ruby sneaking muffins in her hoodie and passing them to the girls as they got ready to get back onto the road.

A few more days, and it would be over, and they wondered at the ending to their story - each wishing for something they thought was impossible.

The lamp glowed in the backseat as they continued on the highway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not exactly sure what you might find on a road trip, but hopefully it's as fun as this.
> 
> also, like ruby, i have seen some Weird Spaces out in the middle of nowhere; unlike ruby, i have not crashed headfirst into them.


	3. hold onto me

_ _ _ hold onto me _

hold onto me as we go

as we roll down this unfamiliar road

and although this wave is stringing us along

just know you’re not alone

‘cause i’m going to make this place your home

_ ~ home, phillip phillips _

-

The town they’re cutting through is old and dusty, almost like the dried bones of a wild animal rusting in the desert. They’d passed along a rusty bridge, creaking under Bumblebee’s wheels. The main road cut right through the middle of the seemingly abandoned establishment, and the decision whether to take this road was hotly debated throughout the car.

“Looks dangerous,” Weiss muttered, glaring out the window at the dust. “I don’t feel like wandering through a setting that could be in an apocalypse movie, thank you very much.”

“I say we go for it,” Yang suggested, lips curling. “If I drive really fast, we can tear through the town no problem.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Ruby hazarded, and Weiss spun around.

“Let me be the voice of reason: remember what happened  _ last  _ time you went headfirst into a dangerous situation?” she accused, and Ruby slumped, swatting at Weiss’s hair.

“You’re never going to let me forget about that, aren’t you?”

“Nope,” Weiss said, smirking and leaning back in her chair. 

“This is all well and good,” Blake said, amused - it was like a family, their bickering - “But there’s only one road, and it’s through that town.”

Weiss muttered something harsh and expletive under her breath. “Damn the wilderness.”

“Aw, yeah!” Ruby cheered. “Team Break The Speed Limit, here we come!”

“We are  _ not  _ doing that,” Weiss scowled.

The conversation led to them crossing the bridge - a river ran underneath, the liquid trickling sinuously down the soil, dark and oddly thick. As it shook behind them, Blake saw a massive graveyard stretching on the left side of the road, seemingly too large for a population of such a small town.

A white cross flickered underneath Yang’s chin, blurred through the window, as she spoke. “All right,” she muttered, “All that’ll complete the scene are a couple of crows and some creepy music.”

“It seems lonely,” Ruby wondered, folding her hands in her lap like a small child. “Like it lost something and is waiting for it to come back.”

“How about we  _ not  _ exit the car this time?” Weiss suggested, a shade sarcastically. “You know, before we all get sucked into hell.”

“You sure we aren’t already in it?” Blake deadpanned, then grinned. “I’m kidding.”

_ “Blake,”  _ Ruby said, scandalized, but Yang laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

A sign flashed creakily at the beginnings of the town - Weiss squinted at it. “Mountain Glenn,” she murmured. 

“What happened here?” Ruby wondered.

The lamp flashed by her boots.

Stained buildings rose into the sky - unlike the churches from earlier, these seemed in almost pristine condition, cold and frozen. Rusted signs with bubblegum-pink letters popped from a shuttered store, sputtering power lines stringing the clouds. 

Blake felt a shiver down her spine - she refrained from flinching, not wanting to touch her skin. She felt the odd sensation of being  _ watched,  _ eyes crawling down the truck.

A small, stuffed bear caught her eye - it was perched on the edge of a windowsill, surprisingly pristine. A ragged ribbon was tied neatly in a bow around its neck, serenely watching from its perch.

For a split second, Blake thought she could see movement - a quick scrabble of hands, shifting in the darkness - but it was gone and the bear was still there, sitting placidly.

Shattered glass was sprayed along one side of the road, and Yang swerved around it. Blake peered out the window and saw a broken window leading into a bookstore, pages littering the ground, tomes crumpled on the concrete. 

The sign flipped on the front of the cracked window still read  _ OPEN. _

Blake’s heart gave a small pang at the image - the books were crumpled against the ground, spines shattered. It looked like a scene of carnage, almost - remnants of a broken battlefield.

“Yang,” she was saying before she could help herself, “Stop here.”

“What -” Yang started, her voice pitching in concern and worry, but Blake was pushing open the door and stepping onto the concrete, stumbling a little bit as the truck pulled to a stop. She headed along the cobblestones - not trancelike, senses sharpened.

Dry wind whistled along her feet as she stopped in front of the store, staring up at the faded boards. It looked plain and solemn and a little bit despairing, crouched amongst the rubble and destruction.

There was a sweet, old taste in the back of her throat, like strawberries and cigarettes. Blake stepped forward, feeling the hard crack of bricks, brushed by the jagged shards of broken glass to carefully flip the sign from OPEN to CLOSED.

Her throat aching, Blake stepped back and turned toward the truck. Everything seemed pastel, pale pink and gray and salmon. Bumblebee was the only splash of color, gold and a source of relief to Blake’s eyes as she walked back, smooth and heavy.

“You all right?” Yang asked, her voice soft. Blake nodded as she pulled the car door closed.

“Let’s go.”

Blake didn’t look back as they whirled out of the town, broken signs and dusty stores. She was thinking of empty homes and warm hearts, the wrong and the right - she wondered if she had the strength to fix something old and ingrained and destructive, and whether it was possible.

-

Ruby fiddled with the hem of her sweatshirt. Somehow, there was a hole in the bottom of her pocket, big enough to fit her entire hand through. On an impulse, she shoved her fingers through the hole.

“Hey, Yang.”

“Yeah?” Yang turned in the front seat and Ruby wiggled her hand at Yang, who shook her head fondly.

“Stop ruining your sweatshirt, Rubes,” she remonstrated, leaning back in her chair. Still, she was grinning, and when Blake turned to see what Ruby was doing, she shook her head.

“I’m… just going to pretend I never saw that,” she said, laughing. “Ruby, is that your only sweater?”

“Yeah.” Ruby tapped the pocket proudly with her free hand. “I’ve been able to fix it up along the way. My mom was good at making and fixing broken things, or creating amazing stuff from scratch; I have some red thread in my pack.”

“We used some,” Weiss said calmly, turning the page of her book. “Sorry about that, Ruby.”

“No problem.” Ruby nudged the lamp thoughtfully with her boot. “It’s nice that my thread came in handy for saving my life.”

“Once again, it probably wasn’t  _ that  _ dangerous, it’s just that we needed to leave that place alone,” Blake called. 

Ruby poked at the lamp again, and it glowed almost eerily as if in response. She frowned and picked it up, feeling the cool glass underneath her fingers. 

“Are you alive?” she asked, frowning at the glass.

For a split second, she felt a wave of doubt and uneasy humor -  _ talking to the lamp? are you even more nuts than before?  _ \- the moment hanging in the air like an unanswered question, before she exhaled and time sped to its normal flow.

“Yeah,” Ruby muttered, peering at her smeared reflection in the blue-tinted crystal, “I’m definitely bonkers.”

She let it rest in her lap as she stared out the window; the trees and grasses flew by, the road racing underneath Bumblebee’s wheels. Tapping a rhythm to the song she was humming, her nails clinked on the smooth glass of the lamp.

Ruby could see Blake and Yang talking quietly in the rearview mirror - their eyes glanced towards each other briefly, flickering in the light, drawn together like magnets.

The concept of soulmates wasn’t something new to Ruby, although it was quite foreign; she always found the idea intriguing, atoms pulled together over thousands and thousands of years, been together since the beginning of the universe. 

Ruby doesn’t think she will ever find a soulmate, and she’s fine with that idea. Love wasn’t something she needed or wanted, and some people didn’t understand, but the lack of a pull was something Ruby never worried about.

People always described the feeling as a burning longing. Waves of heat washing over their tongues and rendering them useless, swamped by stardust and a longing ache in their bones. Fists roiling in their stomach, kindling embers and sending sparks up throats. Soft candlelight, warm reassurance and sleepy minds. 

Ruby doesn’t long for that burn; she stared out the window and tapped the lamp in her lap, the crystal smooth and silent next to her chest. Rather, she wished for a clear sky and a road to follow, people to help and sights to see.

_ That’s all I ever want, _ she thought, wistfully.  _ An final, grand adventure. _

She looked around the car, at the girls curled in the seats, and amended,  _ one I won’t be lonely on. _

-

A forest was rising around them, mahogany trees spiraling into the cloudy sky.

Green shadows played across the dashboard - Blake was looking out the window, her eyes reflecting the sliding light. She looked wistful, fingers tapping against the curve of her chin.

Yang wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, hold her in the ways that echoed  _ you belong, you belong, you’re a thousand times enough. _

She swallowed and her knuckles whitened on the wheel. 

Time slipped by like water through the cracks in her hands, running down easy, oil down metal. It was too easy, too close, too far. 

“A few days,” she said aloud. Her voice was rough in her throat and Blake turned, lifted her head to look Yang in the eyes. It passed between them, the faint understanding, and acceptance. “We’re almost there.”

Blake nodded, looking faraway. “A few days,” she echoed. “Not enough time.”

_ Time for what?  _ Yang’s mind whispered, and thoughts ran through her mind like coals sending flames burning rampant through tinder.  _ Time for us to see the world, time for us to get to the sea, time, time… _

_ Time for you to know… _

“Yeah,” she said lightly, “You still haven’t gotten caught stealing a road sign from the edge of a highway yet.”

Blake hit her shoulder, grinning through her hand. “That’s  _ vandalism,  _ you idiot,” she laughed. “Besides,  _ I  _ wouldn’t get caught.”

Yang looks at the shadowed girl sitting next to her, dappled with light, and thinks of sun-bruised skies and a dangerous pair of eyes.

“Maybe you wouldn’t,” she says half-thoughtfully, “I’d still search for you, though.”

Blake leans against the window and doesn’t look away this time. “What if I hid?” she asked softly, cautiously.

“I wouldn’t force you to come back,” Yang replied, “But I’d still wait for you.” She met Blake’s eyes, and it was like a slow opening - light breaking through a gap in the clouds - and she  _ meant  _ it. Blake seemed too beautiful to be  _ hers;  _ she didn’t belong to anyone, but with a start, Yang realized she would leave her heart at her feet to look at, give up her sunshine and gold just to spend a moment in the dark. 

Then Blake smiles, and the thought doesn’t scare Yang this time.

-

“Snack break!” Ruby hollers gleefully, and they’re piling out of the car, dead grass and concrete cracking around Ruby’s patched sneakers as she trips toward the battered convenience store. Yang laughs, shutting Bumblebee’s door as she moves to fill up the tank with gas.

Blake follows Ruby into the store - her eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights as she wanders down the aisles. She ran her fingers down the glossy magazines, scanning the battered books.

“Blake!” Ruby called, “Look!”

She was holding a small keychain in the shape of a cat - smooth and dark, winking with gold lining. Blake reached out, took it; the cat looked too elegant, resting in the curve of her palm, her tanned skin rough against the glossy enamel.

“It’s you,” Ruby said cheekily, and Blake shot a grin at the younger girl before tossing it back. Ruby caught it, her small hands wrapping around the cat with ease, and hooked it up with the other keychains. 

Blake wandered down the aisle - slowly, the racks of knickknacks dissolved into shelves of books, almost tucked away in the corner of the store. 

“Hey,” Ruby asked, peeking over Blake’s shoulder, “Find something to read?”

“Not yet.” Blake peered at the shelves, looking at the rows of dog-eared books. “There’s so many to choose from.”

“I like this one,” Ruby noted, pulling out a small book. “Or maybe this - I really loved reading that one, wow! Sometimes it was too dark for my tastes - I prefer a happy ending, at the very least.” 

Blake listened to Ruby’s musings with a smile on her face. Ruby’s energy and optimism seemed boundless, and it affected the entire mood of the truck. 

If anyone was going to change the world, it was Ruby.

“I like books where things change,” Blake said out loud - it was meant to be a thought, but she let it slip through. “Where the characters make a decision for the better.”

Ruby nodded, some of her usual cheer slipping into an quiet sobriety uncommon in people as young as her. “Those heroes are brave,” she mused. “It takes a lot of courage to stand up to the wrong in the world.”

_ Brave,  _ Blake thought, and looked at her hands, dark and empty. 

_ I’m not sure if I’m brave,  _ she thought to herself, thinking of fire and something stronger,  _ but I can damn well try. _

-

Weiss leaned against the side of the truck door, watching dust and sand scatter across the cracked road. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her sweatpants, finding that even though they lacked elegance and style, they were  _ comfortable.  _

She wonders what her family would think of her, now, in the back of a beat-up truck on its way to reach the sea.

Weiss lifted her chin.  _ Well, too bad. _

“Hey, Weiss.” Yang, having finished filling up the gas tank, circled around to stand next to Weiss. “You good?”

“Fine, thank you,” Weiss replied automatically, a bit snippily - she softened her voice and smiled apologetically at Yang. “I’m just thinking about the end of the journey.”

“Oh, yeah.” Yang was quiet, resting against the metal. “It’s been a good run, hasn’t it?”

“The best I’ve had,” Weiss replied, genuine. She can’t recall any time she’s spent with her family that’s made her feel safer and more comfortable than she’s been when she was traveling across the country with her newfound friends.

_ Friends.  _ She caught herself, frowning. The Schnee family didn’t do  _ friends -  _ partners, allies, but never  _ friends.  _ Yet she’s here. 

Weiss took out the figurine from where it’s stayed in her pocket - Yang shuffled closer, blinking clear eyes at it. 

“Looks like you,” Yang echoed, and Weiss smiled faintly. 

“If I was this girl, I’d know how to hold a sword,” she said dryly.

Yang shook her head. “You don’t need a weapon in order to fight,” she said, laughing, like she was staring down the barrel of a gun yet somehow knew she would win. “There are so many battles you fight with just yourself.”

“I guess.” Weiss turned the figurine in her hands. “I don’t know what’s waiting for me at the end.”

“You’ll find a way,” Yang said. “But it’s  _ your  _ way, not anyone else’s. Just keep that in mind, Weiss.”

Weiss imagined she was shattering glass, toppling each and every one of her father’s buildings. She slid a finger along the sharp edge of the girl’s rapier. “I will,” she murmured.

The Schnee Manufacturing Company is run by a heartless, greedy man, but Weiss Schnee is much, much more than that.

When Weiss pulls her hand away from the sharp point of the figurine’s rapier, it leaves no cut on the pad of her finger.

-

They’re heading back down the road. The stretches of land are ending, the coast and the sea rolling in the distance. Lavender and wheat fields are laid around them, giving way to wild bursts of wildflowers at the edge of the road.

Blake’s window is down as usual. She likes the feeling of the wind carding through her hair, tangling it. The salty tang the air has is an added bonus - she breathes in deep and feels refreshed.

“I can’t find my book,” she hears Weiss say from behind her, and the shuffling of seats. Ruby makes a frustrated sound and there’s a thump against the back of Blake’s seat. “Here - no, Ruby, don’t drop my phone -”

“You have so much  _ stuff  _ in your pack,” Ruby said, sounding annoyed. “What’s  _ this  _ doing here -”

There was a clank and Blake twisted around in her seat to peer at the two girls. Ruby was holding the blue lamp from before, casting a turquoise tint to her eyes. Next to her, Weiss was looking disheveled, rummaging through her pack. “Are you two all right?”

“Hold this,” Ruby said briefly, passing the lamp to Blake. She took it, securing her grip on the smooth glass. “Okay, Weiss, I’m going to do things Ruby-Style -”

“Please  _ don’t, _ ” Weiss said, exasperatedly, and Yang flicked down the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the backseat.

Blake turned back, settling the lamp in her lap. Yang was still squinting at the two girls, amidst shuffling and Weiss’s grumbles. 

“Careful,” Blake said gently, “Keep your eyes on the road.” She tilted Yang’s chin down to see the street, the girl’s skin warm and flushed under her touch. Yang swallowed, and Blake briefly noted her throat moving, skin working, before Blake withdrew her hand, feeling oddly nervous with her heart pounding. 

“You say it like I haven’t been driving this car for the past year,” Yang said, light and teasing and a little bit rough, but Blake dismissed her thought.

“Oh, I know.” Blake smiled, twisting her lips wryly. “Maybe I care about your safety.”

“You’re in good hands, baby,” Yang replied, leaning back, and Blake found her hands sweating -  _ baby,  _ gold and rich and smooth - she was overcome with a longing to reach out and touch something, feel the smooth touch of Yang’s skin under her hands once more -

A whoop rang through the car as Ruby unclipped her seatbelt and dove headfirst into Weiss’s pack - Weiss had dropped her forehead into her palm and was looking at her knees in utter resignation as Ruby emerged, triumphant, lint stuck in her hair and a book clutched in her hand.

“Found it,” she crowed, shaking her head free of lint. Yang reached back and ruffled Ruby’s head, sending lint flying - Ruby scowled and swatted playfully at Yang’s hands. 

“May I please have my book back,” Weiss said, her voice still retaining that resignation stamped onto her eyes. Blake laughed at her. 

The lamp was growing warm between her knees, warmed by the sunlight and the laughter. Blake’s palms slid across the glass and she rubbed the surface, absently trying to dispel the thought of touching Yang again. 

_ I wish I could,  _ she thinks distantly - as quiet as the hum of the sea, the soft pluck of a violin string -  _ I wish I could touch, I wish I could feel. I wish I could be free to fly again. _

She feels like she’s almost there - she’s scrubbed the shadows from her skin, found a new light in the sky to look for. Blake’s on the pinnacle, waiting for bated breath and warm hands and a bright city.

Running, she wonders, is harder to do when you’re filled with hope.

But she’ll make it through somehow. She has the sun on her back and a spot in the car, and a girl like sunshine occupying a corner of her mind.

-

Gravel crunches underneath the car’s wheels. 

Ruby’s been watching their surroundings for a while - slowly but surely, sparse forests turned into rolling fields, closely-grazed grass peppered with yellow wildflowers, cows lazily watching the yellow pickup truck meander along the roads. 

Ruby can hear the ocean, a distant thundering. A blue line is on the horizon, and she’s been watching it grow closer and closer, white lines streaking the surface, a salty tang in the air. 

Blake’s hair tangles behind her in the wind - Yang’s hand taps a rhythm on the dashboard. Weiss is reading her book, face smooth and calm, sunlight dappling the pages. 

Ruby counts the seconds. Static fades in and out of the radio as they grow closer. The pounding grows insistent, like someone knocking at the front door. 

The sea becomes larger and larger as they approach the edge - a plane swallowing the horizon, infinity dropping to the edge of the sky. Waves collapsed against the edges of the bluff, swallowed by the road. Ruby’s so close - she can feel it - seagulls caw overhead, wheeling above her head, and she beams. 

Her adventure is almost at its end, and she cannot wait. 

Finally, Yang pulls to a sandy stretch on the side of the road - Ruby’s door is already open before the wheels stop moving. Yang laughs and calls something out about being careful - Ruby almost doesn’t hear, she’s tearing down the steep hill, sand sliding underneath her shoes. 

She grabs at the sparse seagrass waving from the edges of the dunes to steady herself but continues running, tripping, stumbling and avoiding the driftwood, rocks hitting her shins and sand spraying across her shoes. Impatiently, Ruby kicks them off, tossing them into her hand as she continues running. 

The sand’s cool under her bare feet and she can feel the sea spray hitting her face, the wind cold and biting. The grass is becoming less and less patchy, fading into the pale beach.

It’s pristine, glittering before her. The sand’s cold and packed under her feet and small shells glitter from clumps of seaweed scattered on the beach. Ruby finally stumbles to a halt, gasping and panting, hearing faint shouts behind her, drowned out by the roaring of the sea before her.

It’s  _ huge,  _ swallowing up her vision. Waves slam onto the sand before her, crests of white arching against the sky. Foam glitters by her toes as the tide retreats and bubbles by her feet, inching up the damp sand.

The ocean is a myriad of violet and anger and ultramarine, an ultimatum and an invitation. It’s so much larger than Ruby herself, could envelop her whole and not make a sound, a thousand tears in the cosmic iris of the earth. 

Ruby’s breathless, and she feels calm, serene - her footsteps end behind her, following her path to this moment, and she, for the first time, doesn’t feel the need to go any further.

Her adventure has come to an end. 

And… she’s lonely. 

She feels small, the kind of small that makes you quiet and forces you to pause, take a breath. If Ruby’s been running her whole life, she’s finally finished her race. 

Ruby takes a breath, looks out at the sea for a last time - sees the glittering expanse, wide and stretching in front of her. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Her adventure over, she thinks it’s time she headed home.

-

Weiss had taken off her shoes without a second thought and rushed down the hill - sand crunched between her toes and the wind bit her cheeks, but she followed Ruby’s harried path to reach where the young girl stood by the sea.

At the sound of her footsteps, Ruby turned. Her silver eyes didn’t focus on Weiss at first - they seemed cloudy and faraway, but she blinked and her usual mirth was shining through. 

“You’re here?” Weiss asked, and it was a question but not really. Ruby laughed, smiled like she had discovered a great secret, had finally scaled a mountain. 

“Yeah.” Weiss can still hear the ocean pounding in her ears, wind whistling through the grass, nearly drowning out Ruby’s response. “I’m finally here.”

“Time to go home,” Weiss offered, and Ruby nodded. 

“I’m already almost there,” she said simply, like she was offering something wonderful. “The sea’s beautiful, like I always thought it was, but there’s nothing more for me to do out here. At least, not now.”

_ Already almost there.  _

Weiss wondered at that. How was it that Ruby could be so comfortable without the ties to her blood? How could she break free and choose her  _ own _ fate, knowing that she still had a home to go back to?

Ruby was walking along the tide, giggling as the surf barely reached her toes, fizzling into white bubbles smothered by the sand. Weiss hurried to catch up, walking along the edge of the ocean. 

“Where’s your home?” she asked, following Ruby with the sea on her left. Yang’s truck glinted from the top of the bluff - the threads of Yang and Blake’s hair meandered along the top of the cliffs. 

“My dad lives in Beacon,” Ruby said, shrugging her shoulders. “I promised him I’d come back. Patch’s not too far from there, and that’s where my home is.”

_ Beacon’s awfully far,  _ Weiss wanted to say, but she held her tongue - it  _ wasn’t,  _ actually, it was just the distance from her and the place that had controlled her every move from her birth. To know the place within yourself so well you never worried about the ones you left…

_ Not left,  _ she corrected herself,  _ freed. _

And she had to return; she couldn’t stay out in the wilderness forever. She was no Ruby or Yang, or even Blake, able to live with their hearts and feet. Something was going to pull her back to her family, and she couldn’t resist it.

Weiss continued walking down the beach, Ruby dancing in the surf. With a start, she realized that all her thoughts about her family had become more distant - not cold or far away, but unprovoking of silence and passivity. 

She raked her hair back and let it tangle in the wind - she knew sand would get caught in it, the pale, silky strands roughened by the wind and the salt, but she didn’t care. 

Weiss knew herself now, and maybe it was the roar of the ocean thundering in her chest, firm and strong and crashing upon the beach, unrelenting. She was riding the crest of a wave - waiting for the moment she would be drawn back to the pale sand, and she would crash upon it with the force of an iceberg breaking free. 

_ Courage and dignity are things I already own,  _ she thought to herself, remembering the figurine with its head held high and hand steady on the rapier.  _ This is my family - the people I chose to live with, the ones I laughed and learned and found myself with.  _

She’d found her place, the person she was content with - Weiss was at her home, and it was wild and strange and provoking, but she was sure of herself this time.

“Your hair’s down,” Ruby said, trotting over to where Weiss was standing - her eyes were wide and youthful and compassionate. The unspoken  _ are you all right?  _ was evident in her voice. “It’s gonna get knotted.”

“It’s fine,” Weiss replied, feeling a genuine smile break across her face. “I don’t mind.”

Ruby smiled and she tapped Weiss’s wrist, pulling her to where the waves were pounding. “Bet you can’t catch me,” she challenged, and Weiss narrowed her eyes, feeling the sea spray across her face.

She laughed and took off, the sand scattering at her feet, and Ruby’s shrieks of delight chased her up and down the beach. 

-

Blake closed the car door, pushing her hair out of her face. Weiss had already hurried after Ruby, and they cut two scrambling figures across the beach. Ruby’s shouts of laughter and Weiss’s erratic path was evident of their glee and joy, and Blake thought she would leave them to their carefree happiness. 

Yang appeared next to Blake’s elbow - Blake blinked, feeling a light touch on her temple, and Yang carefully pushed Blake’s hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. 

“Your hair was in your eyes,” Yang explained, almost nervously, but Blake was too busy registering the touch in her brain, wishing she was more aware of it. 

“Thanks.” Blake smiled - she knew it was lopsided, mouth too slow as it caught up to her mind. “Shall we go down?” 

Yang was quiet for a moment. “Walk with me for a moment,” she said, softly, and Blake nodded.

They set off along the bluff - it wasn’t too high off the beach, a low cliff with sprawling grasses and sharp, almost succulent-like plants with straggling flowers littering the leaves. Yang picked her way around a barely-there path until they reached the edge where the cliff dropped to meet the sand, the sea rolling under their dangling feet. 

There was a rough, rocky outcropping and Blake dropped to sit down on it, kicking her feet over the edge. She could hear the screech of birds and the roar of the waves, cold and cool and wild - it was almost a final destination, a grand exit to their trip. 

“What are you going to do?” Yang asked softly.

Blake bit her lip - she wasn’t sure, but she could try - “I’m going to stay in Beacon.” Her hands were clenched in her lap - she peeled her fingers apart, flexing the joints. “I heard there were schools, opportunities. I want to learn as much as I can, make a difference.

“My parents,” Blake admitted, “Are the leaders of the White Fang - the equality advocates. And I’ve been thinking… after my entire life, running away from them just because…  _ someone…  _ twisted me into thinking that violence and being subjected to it were the only ways of achieving things you wanted… I think it’s time to go back and start speaking for what I believe in.”

Yang was quiet for a moment. “That’s awfully brave of you,” she echoed, genuine, Blake’s heart slowing and settling in her heart. “I know you can do it.”

Blake nodded slowly. “It’s been a new start,” she said, almost hesitantly, something erupting in her chest - it was warm and spilled from the base of her throat, reaching through her ribcage with trembling fingers, “And I just want to say thank you for helping me realize I was capable of…” she gestured with her hand. “Being free.”

“Blake,” Yang said, soft and achingly sweet, “You’ve always been so, so strong.”

Blake fell silent, letting the sound of the sea rush through her head, pounding through her ears and filling her eyes. She breathed deep, feeling shaky with her heart swelling, and peered at Yang through her blurred eyes.

With the sun winking from the thread of her shoulder, running down her cheek and across her forehead, hair tangling like spun gold in the wind, Yang looked too bright to stay for longer than a fleeting moment. 

“When I met you,” she whispered, “I said I wanted to go somewhere far. Looking back -” Blake laughed, breathless - “I was running. I ran and I ran and I ran, but I stopped… I think I stopped running when I first met you.”

Yang’s eyes were wide and earnest and the slightest bit hopeful. “Blake… I know it’s a bit presumptuous, and I know you barely know me…” she shuffled her feet, looking down. “I was wondering… would you stay with me?”

_ Of course,  _ her heart whispered,  _ of course I’d love you, love you till I die. I’d burn for a second if it meant I could touch you the way I’d been dreaming of for days.  _

Blake couldn’t say anything, just watched Yang with her heart swelling in her ribcage. 

“You’re in here.” Yang’s hand pressed against her own chest, below her collarbone. Sunlight was gilding her chin, running down the corner of her eyelids. “Blake… I’d give you my heart.”

Slowly, Blake reached out - wanted nothing more than to trace the sliver of sunlight with her fingertips, running down her cheek and across her eyelids, down to cup Yang’s chin - Yang leaned into her touch, eyes half-lidded and winking in the light.

“If you’ll have me,” Yang echoed, careful and flashing gold and Blake’s hands melted, she slid her hand to cup the base of Yang’s neck and pulled her down.

Kissing Yang wasn’t fireworks or spitting sparks - it was over too quickly, sweet and short and salty like the sea. Yang exhaled and Blake felt the wind whistle across her lips, and Yang smiled.

Blake laughed and Yang did too, tilting her head down to cup Blake’s wrists with her hands. “Baby,” Yang whispered, honey and gold, “You’re beautiful.”

Blake pulled her closer again, nearly forgetting to breathe. She tangled her hands in Yang’s hair, ran her thumb across the bridge of her nose and over her cheekbone.

Kissing Yang felt like home, and she wasn’t ready to let go.

-

Yang wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

The sun was bright but not too blinding - the wind was soft against her skin, and Blake was warm under her hands. 

_ Blake.  _ The dark, pretty girl she’d offered a ride to so long ago, was kissing  _ her,  _ on the cliffs by the sea. 

Eventually, they slowed - Yang reluctantly pulled away, her hands immediately missing the contact, aching. “We should head down to the beach.”

Blake nodded - she smiled faintly and tilted Yang’s chin up, planting a last, short kiss on her lips. “Come on, then.”

Somehow, their hands never separated as they headed down the bluffs - Yang’s feet sliding down the sand, Blake laughing as she staggered along with her, the more balanced of the two. Finally, as the slope levelled off into the pale beach, Yang could see Ruby and Weiss heading along the shore.

_ “Yang!”  _ Ruby hollered, a red streak as she dashed down the beach -  _ “catch -”  _ and she all but threw herself into Yang, forcing Yang to drop Blake’s hand to accommodate the smaller, energetic girl. 

Yang swung Ruby around, Ruby shrieking in delight, and put her down on the beach after ruffling her hair, making sure it was sticking up in every direction once she was done. She turned to see Blake watching them with a fond smile, open and affectionate, and Yang felt like she was struck with lightning.

Weiss came closer, her feet caked with sand. “Where have you two been?” she asked, her eyes glittering. Yang wouldn’t put it past her to actually know the real reason, and her reaction was immediate, her cheeks burning. Blake flushed as well, but her darker complexion hid her embarrassment easily. 

“Up on the bluff,” Blake answered casually, narrowing her eyes the slightest at Weiss, slits of amber. 

Weiss nodded, her expression a bit  _ too  _ smug. “Right,” she repeated knowingly, and Yang reached out to swat at her shoulder. 

“Oh, come on.” Ruby groaned. “You two like each other. Stop making such a big deal out of it.” Yang wheeled around to stare at the younger girl - Ruby shrugged, grinning. “I may have  _ no  _ interest in these types of things, but you two are  _ obvious. _ ”

“Maybe so,” Blake said nonchalantly, reaching up to kiss Yang’s cheek, who felt warmth rush from the point of contact, making the base of her neck burn. She resisted the urge to hide her face in her hands and scream, smile, laugh until her heart burst. When she peeked at Blake, the slighter girl was grinning, obviously amused by Yang’s reaction. 

“Shut up,” Yang groaned, reaching out to hold Blake’s hand and tug her closer.

“I wasn’t saying anything,” Blake laughed, resting a hand on Yang’s hip.

“Both of you are insufferable,” Yang heard Weiss say from behind her, but she didn’t mind. Blake was warm under her hands, and somehow that was enough.

“Well,” Yang said, finally, “We made it.”

Silently, Ruby moved to stand next to Yang, who put a hand on the smaller girl’s shoulder - Weiss brushed Ruby’s shoulder with her own, and they all stood and looked at the sea.

“It’s beautiful,” Ruby echoed, small and simple, “But I think it’s time to go home.”

Slowly, they disengaged - Ruby was first, stepping up the hill with her eyes turned ahead, Weiss following in her wake. Blake and Yang didn’t let go - it was only until they were in front of the car that Blake let go of Yang’s hand to circle to the passenger seat.

Ruby was perched on her side of the car behind Yang’s seat, emptying sand out of her shoes. Her pack was discarded next to her, and Yang reached over to prop it up.

A piece of paper caught her eye - wedged under her seat, almost tucked out of view. Frowning, Yang tugged at it. Ruby peered over her shoulder.

“Oh,” she said offhandedly, “That’s one of my photos; I’ve been meaning to get it for ages.”

Yang finally pried it out from under her seat - the back was a little bent, some crumbs caught at the edge. She was about to brush them off the edge and hand it back to Ruby when something stopped her - a glint of white on the other side of the paper.

She turned over the photograph.

At first, she discerned a face with reddish hair and thought  _ Ruby  _ \- then she realized the hair was brighter, the face older. The curve of a white coat and mirrored eyes stared back at her.

The same woman in her photograph, with bright eyes and hair the same shade the tips of Ruby’s locks were, smiled from the paper, her hands locked around a much smaller Ruby, with dirt smudged on her nose and a bandage plastered on her knee.

The frame was slightly tilted as the woman laughed, trying to secure a hold on Ruby, who was obviously trying to reach the person who was taking the photograph. Yang’s hand shook - dimly, she was aware of Ruby saying something in a high, concerned voice. 

“Yang?”

“Who is this woman?” Yang asked - her voice was strangled, stammering, but she didn’t care. Yang’s ripped photograph felt heavy in her pocket, dense as a black hole. 

“My mom,” Ruby said, carefully, “Summer Rose.”

Yang reached into her pocket with a shaking hand - slowly, she pulled out her photograph and held it out to Ruby - Ruby’s eyes widened and she let out a soft gasp. “Is… this -”

“That’s  _ mom, _ ” Ruby gasped, her eyes widening, “Oh, Yang, how -”

“Yang?” Blake asked, concerned - Weiss was sitting, alert and at attention, but Yang could only see the photograph in her hand. 

“The man,” Yang said - her voice cracked and she knew her words were shaking - “That’s my -”

_ “Dad,”  _ Ruby breathed at the same time, and she was scrambling to reach her pack, pulling out the photographs that Yang had heard her talk about but hadn’t seen. The dots were connected in Yang’s mind but somehow it hadn’t clicked, not yet, and she felt like she was waiting with bated breath for the stroke of an axe. 

_ He lives in Beacon… he works at a school…  _

“My mom left my dad when I was just a baby,” Yang whispered. “I never met him.”

A man with blond hair, laughing at something off-camera, the edge of Ruby’s hand in the frame. Blond hair and blue eyes and a wide face that laughed easily, earnestly.

Handwriting at the bottom scrawled in a elegant, looping script,  _ Tai and Ruby. _

“Tai,” Ruby murmured, “Short for Taiyang…”

“Xiao Long,” Yang said, and she  _ knew,  _ knew in her bones. Yang Xiao Long with no father, a mother who disappeared far too often, a truck filled with children that somehow… 

“How did you…?” Ruby asked, realization coming slow. Slowly, the photograph fluttered out of her hand and crashed to the floor. “Oh - your mom - she was -”

“You’re my  _ sister,”  _ Yang finally said, breaking through - Ruby let out a half-incredulous laugh and she was in Yang’s arms, hugging her tightly, and Yang threw her arms around Ruby’s shoulders and laughed, tears rising to her eyes, burning. 

“Yang Xiao Long?” Ruby asked, her voice small and Yang laughed, nodded.

“That’s me.”

“I never knew,” Ruby said, half-laughing, rubbing at her eyes, “I never realized I’d actually  _ find  _ you - dad never talked about you much, and Summer - mom - didn’t question - oh, god -”

“Yang?” Blake repeated, resting a hand on Yang’s shoulder, and Yang turned, let the smaller girl wrap her arms around her. 

“Ruby’s my sister,” she said, muffled into Blake’s neck, and Yang felt Blake exhale. 

“You found each other,” Blake whispered back, and Yang laughed again - she felt too bright, like she was about to burn up and overflow. 

_ We found each other. _

Yang Xiao Long left her home in search for a father, but down by the beach with laughter in the air, she thinks she might’ve found a family. 

-

The drive back isn’t a finality at all.

Rather, they already reached the end of the last chapter - Ruby called goodbye to the beach, Weiss threw a rock off the bluff. Blake leaned out the window and sang along to the sputtering music that they could reach from the radio. Yang pressed her foot to the gas and the wheel spun under her hands. 

It only takes a few hours before they’re driving through Beacon. It’s a large city, sprawling and glass and metallic, light winking from crystal-cut windows and steel structures. 

“We should almost be at the academy,” Ruby says.

Weiss saw a large building pass by, a fountain glittering from the corner, swooping letters spelled out on the doors. “Wait,” she said aloud, straining against her seatbelt. “Stop here.”

Yang obliged and pulled into the driveway in front of the building, frowning a little bit. “Isn’t this…”

“The Schnee Manufacturing Company,” Blake said - her voice hardened, bordering on a scowl. “They’re known for exploiting the labor of low-income families and marginalized communities.”

Weiss nodded grimly. “Not if I can help it,” she growled, and all but threw the truck door open, slamming open the sliding doors to the lobby marching into the glass and marble building. 

Her friends followed, hot on her heels, but Weiss only had eyes for the manager at the table, who looked up with a bored expression, then with wide eyes. She stood up so fast her headset nearly fell off, pushing away her chair.

“Miss Schnee,” she said, her eyes wide. “Where have you been - your father -”

Weiss cut her off sharply. “I have a message for him, actually,” she said coolly, patiently. “Could you please pass it along?”

“Your  _ father -”  _ she heard Yang say behind her, incredulous.

The woman slowly sat down, nodding, but Weiss was already speaking.

“Tell him I’m coming,” she said lightly, “And I’m no longer willing to put up with the unfair way he treats his workers. If he doesn’t change what his company stands for, then I shall gladly do it for him.”

“Forgive me, ma’am,” the woman said almost timidly, looking slack-jawed and almost  _ hopeful,  _ “But how will you…?”

Weiss turned around and locked eyes with her friends, standing behind her - Ruby, her eyes glittering and sharp, Yang’s burning, effervescent grin back on her face. Blake’s chin was tilted up, and as Weiss made eye contact with her, she smiled ever so slightly. 

“She’ll be working with me,” Blake said calmly, stepping forward, “As I am a representative from the White Fang.”

Weiss turned, no longer bothering to hide her grin - it spilled across her face, cold and sharp and sure. “Good day,” she said, final, and strode toward the doors.

Once they had slammed shut behind her and she was back in the truck, Weiss let her shoulders sink and her icy demeanor melt away from her. Yang turned the key in the ignition and they left as quickly as they had arrived. 

“You’re Weiss  _ Schnee _ ,” Blake finally said. 

“ _ You’re _ from the White Fang,” Weiss replied, quick. Somehow, Yang didn’t look too perturbed - Ruby simply looked confused, mouthing  _ no idea  _ when Weiss swung around to glance at her. 

Weiss sighed, slumping against her seat. “I can’t imagine Father will be too happy to hear about this.”

“I didn’t know you were capable of ass-kickery,” Yang said, laughing. “Both of you, of the political kind. Weiss - you’re almost a  _ princess  _ \- why did you -”

“I hate my father,” Weiss said calmly. “Always have. I just decided to run away, but I knew I’d have to go back.”

“We’ll take him down,” Blake said calmly. “The White Fang and the Schnee Manufacturing Company, working side-by-side?” She laughed. “That’s almost an entire rebellion in itself.”

“Will you, though?” Ruby asked, her eyes wide, glinting at Weiss, who felt oddly like she was being tested. Blake didn’t move in the front seat, but her eyes flashed at Weiss in the rearview mirror, calculating. “Are you going to change your father’s company?”

“I can sure damn try,” Weiss said firmly.

“So will I,” Blake said. “I’ve been standing from the side for far too long. It’s time for me to take a stand for what I believe in - for what I love.”

Yang reached out and took Blake’s hand, swiping her thumb across the darker-skinned girl’s knuckles. Blake squeezed Yang’s palm back. 

“You’ll do great,” Ruby said encouragingly, poking Weiss’s side. “We’ll all be with you, every step of the way.”

Weiss exhaled - she let go of herself, the building rolling away behind her.

_ I’ll be back,  _ she vowed,  _ And I’ll tear it down. _

-

They were almost at the edge of the city, driving along the outskirts. Short buildings and residential areas were rising around them. 

“Turn left here,” Ruby directed, and Yang obliged, pulling Bumblebee’s wheel to the side. Blake’s hand was still warm in hers, and Yang felt like she was clinging to it like a lifeline. 

“I think the school day is almost over,” Ruby mused, “So he’ll probably be done with class.”

“Dad should be in there,” Yang said, nearly murmuring. Blake reached out with her free hand and patted Yang’s knee. 

“You can do this,” she whispered, and Yang squeezed Blake’s hand. 

It felt like ages; they pulled into the parking lot, Ruby heading up the walkway that led to the entrance of the school. Fountains shone from the corners and carefully trimmed hedges lined the sidewalk - the school itself was grand, majestic, and  _ very  _ daunting.

“Qrow!” Yang heard Ruby shriek - she was barrelling at an older man with gray in his dark hair, walking with a slight stoop. He turned and for a second there was shock scrawled on his angular face, then Ruby was all but launching herself at him, nearly toppling him. 

“Whoa, kiddo, calm down,” he growled, but genuinely seemed to be happy to see Ruby, ruffling her hair and making the shorter, red-tipped locks stick up. “Where have you been?”

“Across Remnant and back,” Ruby said flippantly, beaming at him. “I’ve met some amazing people…”

Ruby was chattering to him, and the man looked across the girls - looking slightly bored and calculating. Yang found his expression oddly familiar, sharp eyes and feathery hair, then his eyes landed on Yang and the cynicism was wiped from his face. 

“Ra -” he started, and Yang suddenly saw her mother in his form, flashing briefly. 

“Are you her brother?” Yang asked, heart pounding, but he was already turning around, hollering to someone nearby. 

_ “Tai!” _

“I -” Yang started, but another man was walking towards the group, eyes lighting up when he spotted Ruby.

_ “Ruby!”  _

_ “Dad!” _ Ruby cried, and they were hugging. Yang stood off to the side with the burn in her throat, near smiling or crying. 

“Tai,” the dark-haired man - Qrow - said sharply,  _ “Look.” _

The blond man turned, and Yang registered his features - open and mellow, a easygoing grin cracking across his face. Sandy blond hair that was shades lighter than hers and piercing blue eyes that crinkled kindly at the edges.

She took a step forward and the man blinked, looking utterly shocked, freezing for a moment. “You’re  _ her, _ ” he said, awed. “Raven’s girl… no - you’re my  _ daughter. _ ”

“Dad,” Yang whispered, and he took a step forward, and Yang let herself go, feeling like she was five years old with scraped knees and soft hands free from her countless adventures and mishaps, running to her missing father for a bandage.

Except he was here, and he hugged her, quick and short and tight - Yang breathed out and felt tears spring to her eyes, letting herself relax, saying goodbye to the shadow of her father that had haunted her eyes. 

“You’ve grown,” he said, his voice rough. “You were just a baby when she left.”

“Nineteen years will do that to a person,” Yang replied, and she meant to come of as light but her voice cracked halfway through. 

Taiyang smiled at her, his eyes kind, Ruby bright-eyed in the background, clinging to the arm of a scruffy uncle Yang had only heard about before, Weiss attentive at the side.

Blake stepped up to Yang’s side and took her hand, a solid presence next to Yang’s arm, brushing her shoulder with the fringes of her hair.

“Welcome home.”

The truck’s parked behind them, and, somehow, they’ve all found their place. 

They’ve found their home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeehaw!! it's been a wild time!
> 
> as always, thanks to everyone who stuck with me till the end of this fic. i love you all and i couldn't be happier.
> 
> my tumblr is [here](https://amaranthskies-writes.tumblr.com). please chat with me anytime!!

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for sticking with me, folks!!
> 
> my tumblr's [here](https://amaranthskies-writes.tumblr.com). come talk, i'm always willing to chat!


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